Musings from a mountain biking addict on the joy of getting lost
by Sarah Hansing
…. “Um. I think we’re lost.” The utterance of this sentence probably would not come as a huge surprise to many people who know me; I think it is safe to say that very few people would gasp in shock.
But for a moment, it felt very, very uncomfortable to acknowledge that we didn’t quite know where we were. Or how far it was back to the car (and by extension, the food and beer that was in the post-ride plans). As humans, we like our familiarity. We embrace our routines, and find comfort in consistency. And being lost in what felt like the middle of nowhere, with the day waning, a questionable amount of water left, and no functioning GPS felt like the OPPOSITE of comfortable.
Just for a minute or two though.
Because next came acceptance. (Well, actually, first I yelled at my Friends Whose Great Idea This Ride Was, “Look! If you guys didn’t want to be friends anymore, you could’ve just SAID!”)
But THEN came acceptance. We were already on the ride. We were already lost. It was kind of pretty in the middle of nowhere. In fact the view was spectacular, with the late afternoon light. We all just settled in, and resigned ourselves to a longer ride than we had anticipated, glad we had lights. I made a mental note to bring sandwiches next time we went on an adventure. I stopped worrying about where we were going, and really began to enjoy where we were right at each moment. My mind settled, my legs pedaled, and I smiled. We were lost, and it was the most “found” I had felt in some time.