A Pedal to Enlightenment
By Benjamin Evans
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.
'Another hill! Another last moment of torture at the end of the journey. Or is it this time? Was it
torture anymore? Or was it something else entirely? My mind began to cloud over and my legs began to flail, but today I was ready because I knew what to do: "Don't think about the pain," I told myself. "Don't think about how hard it is. Don't think about how the world is against you. Just focus on the effort, on the toil. It won't be easy you won't race up but try and work at a constant level, thinking about nothing but the toil, because the toil all there is.'
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
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