Yesterday
I had the wonderful opportunity to enjoy an organized bike ride with my
daughter and my grandson's girlfriend. The plans and the execution (like all of
life) provided me with ample opportunity to stay in the present moment and
trust the process of life. Mother Nature even had a hand in bringing that
lesson to heart, from the Stick Bug on the door of the car, to the wind and the
rain showers.
The
route originated in Leiper’s Fork, Tennessee. The website sings a proud song—lose yourself in our little village. The
size of the town could cause you to miss both the rich history and the current
bliss. (See http://www.visitleipersfork.com/)
4,000-year-old relics found in this area indicate that
Leiper’s Fork not only served as an important hunting ground for prehistoric
Native Americans; it was also their home. An area deeply rooted with Native
American heritage, they have inhabited this area for thousands of years. Native
Americans who later evolved into the tribes we know as the Cherokee, Chickasaw,
Creek and Shawnee thrived in this area because of its abundant hunting, fertile
soil and plentiful supply of fresh water.
We
started watching the weather days prior and we were doing our best frog
medicine to move the system on out so we could enjoy the ride. We delayed our
start by a couple of hours, still hoping things would clear on out, but the
closer we got to Leiper’s Fork, the more moisture those clouds were releasing.
As we approached the start/finish location, we all agreed we were not excited
about riding in the rain. Stacey (my daughter, who gifted Christina and me the
day) broke into tears as she said, “I was so looking forward to sharing this
day with the two of you.”
Stacey
was feeling the disappointment for all of us. It is natural to feel disappointment when things don't go the way you had imagined. Christina and I admitted the
rainy day was not in our vision either. Since we had driven the distance and
Stacey had paid the money, we went in the school to check in and get our goodie
bags. We admitted we were undecided about whether we were going to ride...
We watched
it rain and chatted about the weather with three women who had done the
twelve-mile ride and had made it back already. One said, “They said it was
supposed to clear by 10:00.” We asked, “What time is in now?”
“Nine-fifty-five,” was the reply. Who would have expected that right at the
stroke of ten, the rain stopped and we headed out.
Wow,
what a beautiful piece of country we rode through. Gorgeous homes, with
magnificent rolling hills whose lawns were manicured with care. Wild turkeys kept
their distance as hawk sang his kee-eeeee-arr.
The grounds were dotted with grazing horses and donkeys, and we even saw a
lama!
As I
walked up yet another hill, a modest home off to my left was sporting a man
sitting on his front porch. His words, "It's all downhill from here
on..." were quite welcome. I am sure that most of us have at some time
longed for that news. The downhill was steep enough we rode our brakes. Even
so, Stacey clocked us at about 35 miles per hour!
When
we got back to the start location, I was actually feeling sad the ride was so
short. I suggested we have lunch and head back out to do it again. While we did
not actually do that, Stacey and Christina are planning to go back and ride the
longer route next weekend.
For
me, the gift of the day was the time with people I love, doing an activity we
enjoy, and out in such spectacular scenery. But as I think about it all now, I am
aware of so much more meaning. I am thinking about women who have ridden the
journey of breast cancer. How relieved
they must have been to feel better and begin to live a normal life again, even more relieved than I was to start downhill.
I
was also thinking about Stacey's comments about the different atmosphere of a
women-only ride. In her experience, there was a great deal more camaraderie and support. She said that it was a pleasant
contrast to the competition she has experienced in previous organized rides.
When each woman would cross the finish line, someone from somewhere would call
out, "Good job!" It was exhilarating to be there celebrating the accomplishments of all the participants.
I
can still see faces of some of the other woman and in my mind's ear I can still hear the stories they told. "I had
not been on a bike for thirty years." "My daughter wanted me to do this
with her." "This is Tennessee, you are gonna have hills. You just get
off and walk up when you need to."
Thank
you, Stacey, for being the remarkable woman you are. I am a very fortunate mother
to have you for my daughter. And I am grateful my grandson, Brad, brought Christina
into our lives. She is a fine young woman. When I think of the three of us, I see us pretty in pink.
These are the very tender memories I have tucked into my heart...
