Follower of long, empty cycle routes and the Buddha

It began on the way to Santa Cruz. The wind had been blowing my face all the way down the Cabrillo Highway and I had seriously underestimated the mileage from Sausalito. I had planned this trip out so methodically as well I had a specific route, with a specific miles a day that I was to follow but now it had all gone out of the window, and I was in trouble. That evening in my diary I described my predicament:

'Something different came into me today. I was halfway up a two mile hill and something came into me that I'd never experienced before. It was at the point where my legs couldn't go on, where my lungs couldn't take in any more air and where a grey fog had started to cloud over my mind and my eyes. I squinted up through the haze to try and locate the top of the hill, but saw I still had at least another mile to go until the summit. Another mile! I thought and thought, but nothing could tell me how I was going to do it. All my mind could come up with was "stop," "turn back," "stop the torture," and these were not the answers I was looking for. So I looked inside myself to find something else, something not from the rational world, but from a place which would enable me to keep on riding, even though everything told me I couldn't.

Ten minutes later and I had made was at the top. It felt great, wonderful... ecstatic! I had made it, somehow. Something had given me that extra energy - something beyond me, beyond my body and my mind.'

It was on the next day, riding up another hill out of Monterey, that I had realized what had happened.

Buddhists would call this 'Dharma' the 'truth,' the ultimate reality of 'the way that things really are.' Half way up the hill the sensory world 'Samsara' had proved inadequate. When it came to it I found there was nothing there, nothing to help me up the hill, so I had to look for answer elsewhere, and it was through this that I was able to see what was real. Riding up the end of the hill I felt nothing - just the toil - and my mind was empty and free.

Cycling was no longer just a mode of transport, or a means of leisurely escape. It was my means of meditation, my path to enlightenment 'Nirvana' and to an intense clarity that I had never felt before.

The next day, as I passed through Big Sur and its vast, smouldering cliffs, I started seeing the world through new, spiritual eyes:

'My mind is clear and now I understand what cycling quintessentially is:

It's a way of being able to move, and to move with your surroundings. Everything you see, you hear, you feel, affects how you move, and you are at one with the world. I am on a road on the side of a cliff, and it is the most beautiful cliff in the world. I can feel the presence of the creator, and this is keeping me going. I'm experiencing beauty and nature at its most intense outside and inside me at the same time.'

So that is how cycling took me to a higher plain. Ever since I have used it as my tool to view the world as it really is, to release my 'I' stuck in Samsara, and open up to the beauty of what is around me, whether it is the sun shining over the ocean or a wet muddy path covered in cowpat. I still look at maps, and mileage, and the calories of the food in my backpack, but now this is all to serve a greater purpose. I'm not at Nirvana yet. But a lone road on an open highway will always take me that one pedal closer. Big Sur

This piece is featured in the latest edition of The Ride Journal, a leading cycling publication that features articles and artwork from some of the UK's leading young writers and artists. To learn more about The Ride Journal, you can visit their website by clicking here. Front cover artwork used with kind permission of The Ride Journal.