I was cleaning out my saddle bags this evening and found this entry in my journal from a ride that I took back in September, far to the eastern edge of the Idaho border. This is very thick forest, very thick! Many times while riding the trails, I couldn't see much of anything, occasionally the forest would open up for a moment and reveal to me what I was riding through. I will return, I promise.
Sep. 8th, 2008 Eastern Idaho
Traveling east, every passing mile takes me farther; farther away from the complexities of the city, the din of traffic and bellicose drivers.
With every rotation of the wheels, the cars traveling in the opposite direction seem to grow a little older, the houses a little more simple; materialism begins to wane.
The highway narrows down to a two lane country road and then becomes a forest service road, and then a nameless trail.
We find our way to where we are now, deep in the forest, resting by the trail, enjoying a light lunch.
The forest doesn’t make a sound, not a whisper.
The sun is high in the sky but any direct light fails to reach through the canopy of trees.
Lying here on the forest floor, my jacket propped beneath my head, eyelids closed, wide awake, I listen.
I listen for anything and there is nothing.
Tomorrow when I am at work, back in the endless rush of the city, I will think of this moment here with my bike in the half-light of the forest....................and miss this.