TheBanyanTree: it's like cliff walking...

[Kitty]

I'm so happy to read that you're enjoying hiking and now cycling in NC. 
Altho' there are aggravations that offset total peace of mind, you have 
found activities that you enjoy and that alleviate some of the stress.

Keep us posted on your cycling accomplishments!  Have you named "it"?

Kitty

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Barbara Edlen" <MountainWhisper at att.net>
To: "TBT" <thebanyantree at remsset.com>
Sent: Sunday, October 17, 2010 8:10 PM
Subject: TheBanyanTree: it's like cliff walking...


> When we first moved to North Carolina and I discovered the cliffs at Pilot 
> Mountain it was like a whole brand new beautifully decorated package had 
> been presented to me as a gift for me to slowly open at my own pace. At 
> first, every time I approached one of the cliffs my tummy would get that 
> funny tickling sensation that lets you know you should be wary of what you 
> are attempting. I perceive it as a healthy sense of fear that keeps you 
> from being foolish, mixed with a quivering sense of excitement over a 
> meeting a new challenge.
>
> Rappelling down the cliffs helped with familiarity and the sense that I 
> could manage them in controlled circumstances. Finding secluded niches of 
> my own where no one could disturb me was ample incentive to explore and 
> step beyond my comfort zone in climbing out on one. Sitting with my feet 
> dangling over the edge was at first a cause for tummy tickles, too. But 
> the sense of freedom and the magnificently encompassing views, afforded me 
> from my perches, quickly quieted any sense of hesitancy.
>
> I didn't even notice the exact point when hiking along the cliffs became 
> comfortable and something I just did, with no more tummy tickles. Not 
> until I took one of my Great Danes (Cissy) with me and her intrepid nature 
> made me realize that 1) she is perpetually in gamboling puppy mode and not 
> always the most graceful of creatures 2) one nudge from her (Danes like to 
> lean on you a *lot* as a sign of affection) would be detrimental for both 
> of us. It was a reality check. No cliff hiking with the Danes. Got it. 
> Common sense reigns.
>
> Now, as I learn to handle my motorcycle, I am experiencing the tummy 
> tickle sensation all over again. First, it was about getting down the 
> steep curvy driveway without tipping over and looking like an idjit. Which 
> I didn't. Oh no, I didn't tip it over until I was down the road in a 
> neighbor's driveway (STOPPED, mind you) and trying to turn around. That's 
> when I learned that I can't hold up 615 pounds of motorcycle and try to 
> make a turn. Going uphill. On gravel. <sigh>
>
> I learned a couple more salient facts that day. Gravel is a bitch to turn 
> a bike on, especially when you are just learning how to handle your new 
> bike. I *knew* it was going to be a challenge, but I also learned that 
> there are definite reasons for a lot of the safety gear. Boots with more 
> traction make a huge difference. My left side presents me with challenges 
> on some days more than others. Depending on it to handle all 615 pounds of 
> bike on a hill is not a wise move, because gravity is not my friend. ;-) 
> Now when I need to turn around while stopped, I contemplate my moves ahead 
> of time. Where you look is indeed where your bike goes. The MSF 
> instructors repeated that a gazillion times for a very good reason.
>
> The local roads are proving to be a great teaching arena and a lotta fun. 
> On my first day, I kept practicing circles & figures 8's in a local church 
> parking lot and also my "quick stops". I was making myself nuts trying to 
> master all the slow speed stuff which is lots harder because motorcycles 
> aren't intended to only go 5-10mph. Six hundred and fifteen pounds are 
> indeed very HEAVY!
>
> Then I was talking to our neighbors (who are letting me park it in their 
> garage since it's been kept inside before and God knows I don't want it to 
> get cold or wet <g>). Anyway, they told me I was thinking too hard and 
> practicing too much and to just go out on the road and have fun.
>
> So that's what I've been doing.
>
> The past few days have been an exhilarating joy and have confirmed why 
> I've wanted a bike for what feels like forever.
>
> I *!LOVE!* it.
>
> I love the feel of taking a tight curve just right and I feel my weight 
> shift down into my seat as I throttle up through the end of the curve. I 
> grin so bigly when I downshift and hear the engine rumble like a big sleek 
> cat.
>
> I get naysayers with so many of my dreams. I want a horse and geez, that 
> got shot down with all kinds of warnings about how expensive, 
> time-consuming, yada, yada, yada, they are. Sometimes people assume I am 
> an idjit and I don't know why. I am so dayum (as Dee taught me to say) 
> OCD, I research stuff to the nth degree. I will have a horse within the 
> next few years. A friend has offered me a sweetheart of a mare and has 
> also told me that I can have all the hay I want from his farm. All I need 
> to do now is clear some land. I have another friend who can help with 
> that. Last year he taught me the basics of driving his backhoe. But 
> there's no way I can fell trees with it. I do know my limitations, even if 
> I do sometimes push against them upon occasion.  And I do respect the 
> experience, expertise and advice of many people in my life.
>
> There are risks with just about anything and with most things I am 
> interested in, it seems. I just try to keep it all as manageable and as 
> safe as I can and still not lose the tummy tickle, shivery sense of 
> excitement that means something amazing is on my horizon.
>
> "When it's over, I want to say: all my life
> I was a bride married to amazement.
> I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
>
> When it is over, I don't want to wonder
> if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
> I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
> or full of argument.
>
> I don't want to end up simply having visited this world."
>
> — Mary Oliver
>
>