Words Lester Perry
Images Cameron Mackenzie
The day after Lael Wilcox wrapped up her world record ride around the globe (108.5 days!), she appeared on Ian Boswell’s ‘Breakfast With Boz’ podcast. Whilst discussing how much joy her epic ride had given her, they both agreed: “There’s beauty in the contrast”.
They considered the stark contrast between the desolation of an area like central Australia, and the hustle bustle of some of the big cities she rode through. Although uniquely different, there’s a shared beauty in both. The pair passed over the subject, moving onto other things relating to Lael’s ride, but that phrase stuck with me, and I got thinking.
Rather than the physical or explorational aspects of cycling, are these contrasts really what attract many of us to endurance pursuits? Joe Nation mentioned a similar thing when I interviewed him for a piece a couple of issues ago. Life has become too easy, and we seek out hardships for “fun”, although I wonder if it’s not the experiences themselves but the contrast to the norm that we’re seeking, rather than the journeys in which we find them.
Rewarding contrasts can exist in the simplest of scenarios; there’s the physical contrast between the pain of pushing the pedals for hours on end and the mellow, often serene, comedown once the ride is done. The pleasure after the pain.
Contrast can exist between even the most basic of actions: riding uphill versus downhill; the physical pain and deep breathing associated with grinding a big gear up a long, slow climb, your focus narrowed to just a few feet in front of you, taking in only essential information, every ounce of energy willing you forward. Reaching the top, pain gives way to instant elation at conquering the task, and now, with slower breathing and your head up, your gaze widens, and you can take in the view and see the subtleties around you.
Depending on your situation, daily life can be a rush of noise and activity; reply to this, call this person, tick this box, tick that box. Go off-grid, though, removing the normalities of life, with only a bike, maybe a riding buddy and just the bare essentials, and there’s a vast contrast to our everyday existence. Basic vs. busy. No frills, just thrills.
As our years on the bike tick by, from a few formative years to a few decades in the saddle, there’s an ebb and flow. Depending on which period of life we’re in, our riding patterns change; rides get longer or shorter, simple or epic, group or solo. In the beginning, everything is new and there’s a fresh excitement about it but, like any addictive drug, the more you reach for it, the more difficult the high is to achieve. Rides become more thought out, and we seek more significant contrasts. The thrill that was once conquering a brutal climb is eventually not enough, shifting to become the thrill of completing a huge day, sleeping under the stars in a condensation-sodden bivvy, only to do it all again the following day; the contrast from the comfort of home offers us a stark, yet simple beauty.
When I think deeper about the rides I do now, the most rewarding ones have been those with the most contrast – not only to the normalities of life but also the contrasts to other rides I’ve done. As time passes, I realise even a quick, short ride can provide the necessary contrasts to tick the fulfilment box, although it takes more thought and planning. For better or worse, simply rolling out the door and mincing around my local loops week after week no longer provides enough contrast unless I go with intention or mix it up in some way. Sometimes, purely getting the heart rate up during a quick pre-sundown, hour-long lap provides the contrast needed. If that’s all I can get, I may as well find some happiness and enjoyment in it.
Cycling can be as elementary or as complex as we make it but, regardless of which end of the spectrum a ride may be, if it provides a contrast of some sort, there’s beauty to be found.
