I typically ride on my own, and thus, to keep myself company, I usually listen to music. In fact, a friend of mine recently gave me a gift to commemorate this tendency of mine:
An no, those are not my arms. I am not that buff, and I do not have the courage to be poked with needles for a tattoo like that.
Anyway, I was on a fat ride today, and let me tell you, it was a huge slog! We have received more than our share of snow this winter, and this past week was no exception. We also experienced some strong winds a few days ago. The result, to my dismay, was that large portions of my trails were buried, making them impossible to ride on. I tried to ride them … so valiantly I tried … but this led to more and more frustration. Let’s just say that I did not live up to my initials and stay PG with my language. I am just glad that there was no one walking by to hear my tirades.
Ultimately, I decided to give up and leave the buried trails with my sanity intact. A wise decision. Unfortunately, as I was riding back towards home, my MP3 player lost power and I was left without music. I was then and there convinced that I was cursed to have a miserable day and I figured my best course of action was to get home as fast as possible, before any more damage was done to me.
But, while I was riding home, I heard something strange … in fact, I heard nothing at all. The freshly fallen powder was very soft and a bit wet, due to the warm temperatures we are currently experiencing, and consequently, my fat tires were making very little noise as they rolled across that white carpet. There was just an oh-so-subtle crunching, like I was hearing fireworks being set off … in Antarctica.
As I kept riding in this blessed silence, I found myself relaxing and starting to really enjoy the moment. The snow seemed especially white and sparkly, the wind was a warm caress on my face, and the surrounding trees were sentinels, standing guard and keeping me safe as I negotiated the trail in front of me. It was hypnotic, and I was being transported to my happy place.
Remarkably, I found that I no longer wished to return home. I wanted this mystical, magical feeling to last, I wanted this peace to remain within my heart for as long as possible. So, I extended my ride for well over an hour, and it proved to be one of the most enjoyable rides in recent memory.
They say that music soothes the savage beast, and that is usually the case with me. But today was an exception. Silence was the soundtrack that transformed me and saved my ride.
Phil Goldthorpe: Views from the Passenger Seat 