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| Signs of the road Middlesex Centre, ON September 2025 This photo originally shared on Instagram |
From the looks of it, I’m succeeding.
Which, as I roll past cow pastures and harvested corn fields, is rather the point of all of this. When faced with the choice between riding and not riding, we ride. When we pick up some grime along the way, we celebrate it.
At least that’s the plan.
Because the bright orange machine I’m now piloting through the countryside was built to be ridden. Hard. Taken places. Enjoyed. Used up, even.
And when I look back and try to remember what I loved most about moments like this, they’ll all have a through line to how I felt. That uncanny sense of gyroscopic balance as the bike gains speed. The wind whistling through the holes in my helmet. The birds singing to each other. The rustle of the leaves overhead, and the crunch from underneath as I roll over them.
I don’t know how far I’ll ride today, but I know I’ll experience it with every sense I have.
Because not everyone can. And we owe it to ourselves to drink it all in as long as we’re able.
Now, back on the bike…
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