The Power of Joy

I’ve found a new love – riding the backroads of Bulter County, PA (35 miles north of Pittsburgh). Since April I’ve spent over 3 months here and logged at least 1500 miles over the hills, through the hollers, and along the cricks of Western Pennsylvania. Challenging terrain. Achingly beautiful farms and forests. My bones came from this soil. Flying and floating through the fields, farms and forests along these quiet rural roads is like discovering a symphony written just for me and being able to play all the instruments in the orchestra like a virtuoso. I came from these rocks, woods, cricks, and sky. As fall fades into winter, the mother that bore me into this land lies in the county home fading towards death. I’m  blessed with the time to grow closer to her as she moves farther away from everything she’s known. My daughter’s Waldorf education introduced me to the concept of head, heart and hands experience. Seeking those experiences has shaped and lead me thr...

The bike jumped forward as I snapped out of the left hand corner and down toward the Oyster Creek Inn on Chuckanut Drive . Rocketing past the Taylor Shellfish turnoff, I layed the bike over as far as I dare to arc right and across the classic bridge over Oyster Creek. Any thoughts I've ever had that staying fit and strong was a hassle or a sacrifice seemed totally ludicrous. Suffice it to say that the benefits far outweigh the costs. Snapping upright after the bridge, I jumped onto the pedals and stood to power over the next hill without downshifting, carrying my joy and giddy glee right past the Oyster Bar , Chuckanut Manor and out into the Skagit flats. Although it was a sunny summer Sunday, traffic was light and I was able to enjoy the sun dappled madrones, the sandstone cliffs, and views of Cypress, Samish and other San Juan islands that lay west of the Chuckanut coast. The shoulder near the start of the trail to the Oyster Dome and the hang glider launch was packed wit...