Today 59.5 Miles – AVG Speed 13.9MPH – Top Speed 32.5MPH
Total: 4,559.14
As I was enjoying a scenic cycle around Zion last night I was corralled by another touring cyclist. This was slightly unusual as I wasn’t dressed in lycra and Betty was as naked as the day we first met. His name was Mathieu from Brest in France.
“ ‘allo, you are the British guy on tour also, yes?” asked Mathieu
“That’s right, how did you know that?” I said
“Oh, I meet a German man who said there’s another beard here” came the response
Mathieu was referring to our facial hair as opposed to the slang term for a dinner-date who acts as cover for a homosexual friend, but any comparisons with this hirsute wunderkind were flattering to the point of mockery. I hadn’t seen such a full beard since - well, maybe ever. It truly was a magnificent sight. Dark and bristly with perfect symmetry from ear to ear and chin to nose. If this were a competition (and it is a competition) then Mathieu would be perched atop the podium, hair blowing in the evening breeze, the picture of pride and assertiveness. Whereas I - well, I would be consoling myself with a bottle of Jack Daniels after being knocked out in the heats. Still, two weeks to go and off it comes. Bloody burden it is.
To focus on beards, however, would be to detract from Mathieu’s extremely gentle nature. A softly spoken man, he was journeying from Prudhoe Bay on the northern Alaskan peninsula and aiming to hit the Panama Canal. A trip that had already held many dangers including countless bear sightings at close proximity and up to 250 mile stretches with no life in Canada and Alaska. Mathieu was both brave and inspiring, and listening to his thoughts on how these long trips can alter perspective and set off a fire in the soul confirmed to me that I was listening to a kindred spirit, albeit one who could articulate his spiritual side far better than myself. He says he is always planning another trip and enjoys setting off for three or four months at a time whenever he can. We talked for a couple of hours as the sky darkened and the mountains of Zion were lit up by a half moon, creating an almost photographic negative of the landscape. I felt nourished and content as Mathieu left, his words will keep me company for some time, I’m sure.
Now, bloody hell. Nothing major, but when I awoke this morning my hands were killing me again. I was sure they were on the mend, yet this morning they were tingling and numb. When I went to bed, I loosened the bandages so they were just around the wrist and the palm, What I didn’t anticipate was this seemingly wise move leading to a prevention of blood circulation to the hands, so when I looked at them this morning, especially the left, it had swollen to the extent that it resembled the hand of a darts player from the 1980’s. Still, keeping the wrist wedged in the same position for an entire day should help alleviate the pain.
The cycle was relatively easy today, just 60 miles with a gentle incline back to Cedar City. I’m now in a motel hiding from the rain like a self-appointed monarch and have just been treated to another brilliant commercial on television. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. If not, there's a vid of me rolling through Zion just beneath it. If you like neither of these, however, then there's really nothing I can do for you.
Total: 4,559.14
As I was enjoying a scenic cycle around Zion last night I was corralled by another touring cyclist. This was slightly unusual as I wasn’t dressed in lycra and Betty was as naked as the day we first met. His name was Mathieu from Brest in France.
“ ‘allo, you are the British guy on tour also, yes?” asked Mathieu
“That’s right, how did you know that?” I said
“Oh, I meet a German man who said there’s another beard here” came the response
Mathieu was referring to our facial hair as opposed to the slang term for a dinner-date who acts as cover for a homosexual friend, but any comparisons with this hirsute wunderkind were flattering to the point of mockery. I hadn’t seen such a full beard since - well, maybe ever. It truly was a magnificent sight. Dark and bristly with perfect symmetry from ear to ear and chin to nose. If this were a competition (and it is a competition) then Mathieu would be perched atop the podium, hair blowing in the evening breeze, the picture of pride and assertiveness. Whereas I - well, I would be consoling myself with a bottle of Jack Daniels after being knocked out in the heats. Still, two weeks to go and off it comes. Bloody burden it is.
To focus on beards, however, would be to detract from Mathieu’s extremely gentle nature. A softly spoken man, he was journeying from Prudhoe Bay on the northern Alaskan peninsula and aiming to hit the Panama Canal. A trip that had already held many dangers including countless bear sightings at close proximity and up to 250 mile stretches with no life in Canada and Alaska. Mathieu was both brave and inspiring, and listening to his thoughts on how these long trips can alter perspective and set off a fire in the soul confirmed to me that I was listening to a kindred spirit, albeit one who could articulate his spiritual side far better than myself. He says he is always planning another trip and enjoys setting off for three or four months at a time whenever he can. We talked for a couple of hours as the sky darkened and the mountains of Zion were lit up by a half moon, creating an almost photographic negative of the landscape. I felt nourished and content as Mathieu left, his words will keep me company for some time, I’m sure.
Now, bloody hell. Nothing major, but when I awoke this morning my hands were killing me again. I was sure they were on the mend, yet this morning they were tingling and numb. When I went to bed, I loosened the bandages so they were just around the wrist and the palm, What I didn’t anticipate was this seemingly wise move leading to a prevention of blood circulation to the hands, so when I looked at them this morning, especially the left, it had swollen to the extent that it resembled the hand of a darts player from the 1980’s. Still, keeping the wrist wedged in the same position for an entire day should help alleviate the pain.
The cycle was relatively easy today, just 60 miles with a gentle incline back to Cedar City. I’m now in a motel hiding from the rain like a self-appointed monarch and have just been treated to another brilliant commercial on television. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. If not, there's a vid of me rolling through Zion just beneath it. If you like neither of these, however, then there's really nothing I can do for you.
OW!!!!!!!!!!!
180!!!!!
If you build it, they shall stop and take photos.
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