The forest

Although I was born by the ocean and have lived most of my life under the sun, the best San Diego memories I hold are those spent inland, away from salt water and summertime crowds. Given a choice, I’ve preferred trees at elevation. The “forest” — if you will. Seeing the forest while pedaling on well-traveled routes has given me an appreciation of trees that reach far into the sky. This is where I’ve been most comfortable. From proposing marriage more than two decades ago in the back country town of Julian, to numerous climbs up Palomar Mountain, to giggling snowball tossing with our daughters on Mount Laguna. It’s also why my family vacations in Bend, Oregon, and why I count the Cascade Lakes Highway among my favorite places on earth to ride.

Cycling anywhere gives us so much, it’s hard to know where to start or how to inventory. Maybe you enjoy the physical exhilaration and the meditative qualities from a steady cadence. Perhaps you yearn for those intense sensory moments. Or it’s the mental edge that cycling helps you develop. No doubt, the opportunities for new friendships attract us to cycling. I consistently meet great people while aboard two wheels. I know you do, too. Yet the perks don’t stop there. If we’re fortunate, benefits keep accruing and take us to a better place — always teaching us, humbling us, and challenging us. The past month has been one of change for me both on and off the bike. The bike has been an invaluable friend and teacher. It’s helped me focus. It’s helped strengthen my faith in tomorrow, as well as more intensely cherish family. I can’t ask for more. I thank the stars above. No other way to put it.

Which brings me back to the trees and the forest, on a bicycle, moving along a road, preferably with an upward tilt. Next week, I begin a new chapter in Seattle, Washington. The career opportunity and timing are right, with an added bonus: the area is home to an active cycling community. I’ve taken a bit of joshing from my friends here the past few days about clouds and rain up north. Point well taken. But remember, I love the Spring Classics and embrocation. Although I’ll need to trade some SPF50 sunscreen for fenders and some Gore-Tex, I can’t stop thinking about new routes to be discovered, climbs to explore, and experiences to be shared. There are trees in Seattle. And a few forests encircling the city amid beautiful mountains. Lots of them. Allez, allez.

Related posts:

1. Wearing well I spent the past week snapping photos around Central Oregon during rides on vacation. Color, of course. The green surroundings require it. The iPhone camera works best this way. Today from the desktop computer indoors, black-and-white looks right. Not sure why. Maybe because if I were surrounded by tall pines...
2. Friday was my day Friday was my day. At 4 p.m., I aimed the bike west toward a winter’s setting sun. The air was cool. Not cold. The sky was blue. Not gray. The canyons were dressed in a green that reminded me of Scotland. The ocean shined in the distance. Hot air balloons...
3. How to drop 4kg Would you attempt Mont Ventoux or Alpe d’Huez with a bowling ball stuffed in your jersey’s back pocket? I didn’t think so. Neither would I. The thought makes my kneecaps ache. Lumbar vertabrae, too. The painful reality of extra weight at the start of the year prompted Project 1 Stone....
4. Start where you are Since parachuting into the Pacific Northwest after a Fourth of July celebration with family in Southern California, I’ve received an amazing gift: Hours spent alone with new thoughts, new surroundings and the familiar comfort of family and friends through iPhones, laptops and old-fashioned hand-written cards. In a place far away...
5. Gracias, danke, merci, grazie, thanks It goes without saying that today in the U.S. is one heckuva day of gratitude. There will be hugs. Smiles. Sighs. And maybe a few tears. Forget rush hour on the freeway. Or horns honking. I’ve heard none blare yet as the 7:30 a.m. hour approaches. Today’s the closest we...

Tagged as: bikecrave, cycling, palomar mountain, san diego