I’ve thought this many times on various rides, and sometimes on a solo ride, I’ll even talk aloud to myself when I ask “is this heaven?” A great quote from one of my favorite movies “Field Of Dreams,” and I change the answer to reflect my home state instead of Iowa … “no, it’s Kentucky.” Yet once again, I pondered that very curious question on a recent road ride to start the month of February … could this be heaven.
I believe it could be. Heaven on earth, that is. Sometimes, we get so caught up in our very busy everyday lives with all the ripping and running we do, and working, and social media, and so on and so forth, that we completely forget to get outside, unplug from electronics, and be mentally and physically active in mother nature. I’ll say this, and yes I’m prejudice as a Christian and road cyclist: “There’s no better way to experience the 3-D art canvas that God has provided of everyday nature of heaven on earth, than allowing all of your senses to experience it from the seat of a bicycle!”
And on the the subject of God, just for a brief moment … for those that don’t believe, there sure are a lot of churches, big and small, scattered all over His countryside, even out in the middle of nowhere, where I love to ride my bike the most. And the oldest, smallest ones out on the paths less traveled are simply Angelic looking and provide a very inviting feeling.
Back to heaven on earth on a bike. After completing my ride on Feb. 1, I couldn’t help but reflect on the awesome beauty that I was so fortunate to witness that day. I posted on twitter, “it’s impossible to explain how beautiful our world is from the seat of a bicycle. You can only experience it in real life.” This is so true. You could maybe take a stroll in a convertible car and get close, I’m sure hiking is a similar feeling, but there’s simply no way possible to tell someone or watch it on tv and them get the full feeling of the experience. I’ll try to explain anyways. Just some of the things I was able to see on that and many other rides: a young deer eating along the road, and upon seeing me, showing fear and turning a white tail towards me as she rapidly hopped away to a safer distance; a great blue heron resting along a creek side, as still as a rock on the bank, and they always make me think about my dad who has a special connection with the beautiful birds; the wonderful formations of ice along massively tall rock cliff walls along a winding pleasant grade climb out of the Kentucky River valley; the roaring sound, the salty smell, the beautiful vision of the creek as it crashes over the dam at Weisenberger Mill on the Scott/Woodford county line; the feel of a vicious dog’s breath and the sound of his ferocious bark very near my feet as my heart races when I begin to push the pedals as hard as possible and shout out to “get back!”; the view of an antique plank wood covered bridge and the graffiti that shows its age; the massive amounts of ice formed in the Elkhorn Creek along Peaks Mill road in the popular section for canoeing, kayaking, rafting, and fishing; the sight of a squirrel quickly scampering across the rope hand rail of a rickety old falling apart swinging bridge that was once the sidewalk that led from a road side parking spot across a frozen creek bed to the front door of a cottage style farm house; and many, many more breathtaking moments that can only be fully experienced, in my opinion, in real life … from the seat of a bicycle.
So what are you waiting for? Don’t believe in heaven on earth? Give it a try, I dare you. And I make this promise: you won’t regret it. Get on a bike and ride. Ask me for a guided tour of this beautiful world that exists everyday, but we are too plugged in to realize. I’d love for you to join me.
Bicycling isn’t my whole life, but it makes my life whole,
KP … masher