Solo Journey Ahead

Dear reader, I hope you will indulge me in some irony. In preparing for this solo journey, I have never enjoyed riding with friends more. Yesterday, one of my running friends, Julie,  joined another friend, Mylene, and me on the bike for the first time.  We had been inviting her for some time, but like most of us, she was concerned about slowing down the group, and about the technical aspects of riding, such as clipping in and out of her pedals.  Again, most of us as cyclists have faced similar concerns, and certainly I have had my fair share of falling over while clipped in.

It was a perfect summer morning, gifted to us after a long stretch of unusually cold and blustery May days, and we mapped out a route to Elora that was a combination of the G2G trail, and quiet roads lined with farms. Our conversation was fluid and wide ranging, weaving back and forth between the three of us, as we pedalled past blossoming trees and newly sown crops. 

Riding into Elora, the traffic increased significantly.  It is no longer the sleepy town my friend Janine and I cycled to in high school, with its small frozen yogurt shop and tiny cinema; it’s now a mecca for tourists. We met a young couple on the foot bridge with their tripod set up, clearly adept at taking photos, and they kindly indulged us, taking our photo. 

I am almost hesitant to name our destination, Lost and Found cafe, because its increased popularity has led to customers having to line up out the door.  Mind you that did not deter us from joining the cue.

Sitting at a long pine table, which we shared with a couple who were happily tucked into their books, I felt joyous and grateful. Such moments, with an iced latte and a round wonder of a scone in front of me, and two good friends on either side, are rare and wonderful, to be recollected during moments of solitude, as Wordsworth said, even if he was referring to a host of golden daffodils, rather than a moment with friends in a busy cafe.

Getting back on our bikes, I could feel that familiar weariness in the legs during the initial push up the hill, and then we were spinning easily, with the wind behind us, the wide blue sky above, and green, green fields on either side.

Why, you might ask, if I am so exuberant when cycling with friends, am I about to depart for almost three weeks of solo riding? It is a question I have been mulling over myself.  Call it the bind of the introvert/extrovert. I love moments of camaraderie, and would be bereft without such, but as a lone wolf, a descriptor I find preferable to control freak, I like to map out the day as I please, pushing myself as far as I can go. Thus, in five days, I will head east, and will no doubt spend many moments of solitude reflecting on all the friends who I love and look forward to seeing once again.