A Declaration of Love

And with that, the season is over.

Nearly nine months ago I returned from my warm, sunny Texas paradise to the cold, damp, snowy and wind-swept climes of southern-Ontario.  With nearly all my bicycles in storage, I began the season slugging out the miles upon my heavy steel green commuter, The Dr. Foghorn Leghorn.  There were days spent riding in the rain, others battling against snow and hail; invariably the head-winds wailed.  On occasion, the sun shone but mostly, the clouds hung low and dark.  By mid-April the days were getting a bit longer, the mercury was starting to rise and I was reunited with my Cervelo, Shirin.

Throughout the spring and summer months, I rode and rode and rode, as much as 500 kms a week (plus commuting) while still working full-time at the bike shop.  To provide focus for my riding, I set–and achieved–a few goals including racing a very muddy Paris-to-Ancaster in April and the gruelling 200 mile Hairshirt in June.  Though my racing of the 100km Paul’s Dirty Enduro mountain-bike race in September didn’t go quite as planned, I had a wonderful time that weekend with some of my dearest friends; I even got to ride with my girl-posse!  Interspersed through-out the summer and fall, I made several trips to both Prince Edward County and Ottawa-Hull where I was treated to some truly spectacular riding; alone and with friends.  Autumn was highlighted by a trip to Colorado for nearly two weeks mountain-biking in the Rockies.

In just under a week’s time, I will again be leaving Ontario for Colorado and eventually, a return to the Chihuahua Desert of south-west Texas.  In preparation, bags are being packed, possessions are returning to storage and farewell dinners enjoyed.  On Wednesday I gave Shirin to my friend Darren for safe-keeping while on Friday, I dropped off The Dr. in Toronto so I’d have a bike waiting for me when I eventually return to Canada in the spring.  Thursday, however, I needed to ride just one last time.

Getting the Moots–Isabelle–ready for the trip south, I was chatting on-line with Peter; he was in Toronto and getting ready to go for a ride.  He was also encouraging me to do the same; it was sunny, 14c. and mid-November.  Quickly making plans to meet a friend for coffee, I jumped into my kit, pumped the tires on the good Dr and went out for an hour’s ride.  Not a long ride, not a tough ride, but a soul-soothing, mind-calming, spirit-rejuvenating ride.  Though the wind was strong my legs turned easily and the sun cast long shadows.

The Dr and I rolled across roads I’d ridden hundreds of times over the previous 9 months.  In so doing, I thought of the many miles I covered this season, some harder than others but each rewarding in their own way.  They made me strong.  They helped me achieve my goals.  They eased the pain of my father’s death.  They made me smile and laugh, grunt and groan.  They made me the person I am today and will be tomorrow.

For every mile we travel is sacred, every moment a triumph, every conversation a declaration of love.

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