Being There

When we first heard the dog, Ryan was 50 meters or so ahead of me pedaling through thick Northwest rainforest on Sandy Hook Road in Kitsap County.  This would turn into one of the most memorable dog encounters i've ever had on a bicycle.

It wasn't the deep threatening bark of a guard dog, the kind that makes a cyclist's heart skip a beat.  It was a yip yip yip of a very excited, perhaps overly arrogant, little city dog. As we passed a small break in the thick ferns a tiny 5 inch high, fluffy, yellow dog came shooting out of the driveway, as if fired with a rocket.  The little dog seemed certain that it was as ferocious and frightening protecting it's territory as an angry lion. 

I was a little shocked when it didn't stop at the end of the driveway, but instead shot right out into the street.  My deeply embedded cyclist's dog alert kicked in a little late.  I recovered a bit and held my line as the squirrel sized dog fiercely yelped at Ryan's passing; and then, when the bicycle was safely past, continued it's high speed trajectory straight out into the street, making it clear that it COULD have eaten that invader alive if it WANTED to.

My brief fear dissipated, but was replaced by a worry that i might run over the cute little bugger.  As i neared the point where i was going to have to take evasive action, the little dog noticed me coming down the road and was completely shocked, never considering there could be two of us.  Forgetting any attempt at false heroics, it decided to turn around and head for the safety of it's yard.  However it was still moving forward very fast from it's unrestrained launch out of the driveway, and it's tiny claws could get no grip on the wet rainforest asphalt.  Sliding half way across the pavement like a fluffy yellow hockey puck, it finally came to a stop near the center of the road.  Instantly it's legs started pumping to get away from the approaching bicycle, to try to get it back to the driveway, but the only effect at first was straight out of a roadrunner cartoon:  the dog stayed in one place as all four feet moved independently, frantically slipping on the pavement. 

I was no longer in danger of hitting the cute furball, but i was laughing so loudly that Ryan heard me.  The dog's paws finally got some traction and Ryan turned around just in time to see a five inch yellow streak heading back into the rainforest.

Ryan and i were 40 miles into a 50 mile loop from the Bainbridge Ferry up to Port Gamble and back down via Big Valley Road, historic Poulsbo and Lemolo Road.  It's a wonderful, hilly ride.  We stopped at Chief Seattle's grave in Suquamish on the way up after having a magnificent breakfast at the Streamliner Diner in Winslow right off the ferry.


At the end of the day we took a detour on Bainbridge Island to kill some time waiting for the ferry. We passed a really cool crooked little house, with a bigger crooked house being built next to it.

Following the forecast, and the weather of the past several days, we both prepared for wet, cold, windy weather, loading up on extra layers of wool and jackets.  Except for a brief sprinkle at Port Gamble it was a warm, calm, magnificent day, with dramatic clouds and hints of blue.  We both rode in a single long sleeved layer carrying a HUGE bundle of clothes on our rear rack.

I was pretty slow all day.  Ryan is always faster than me, but i was slower than usual, and i'm pretty tired tonight.  There were hills that were a bit of a struggle and i probably shouldn't be this tired;  but i am and it feels kind of good. 51 miles and 2,800 feet of climbing.

It was a wonderful ride, a loop i have been wanting to do for a long time and one i'm sure i will do again.  The riding was GREAT, but the best part was the exhilaration of being in these amazing places, the expansive water views and the dark mossy rainforest. 

Much of the area we passed through is deeply and forever Salish.  It's a powerful feeling for me visiting, passing through.  We stopped to see if the Suquamish museum was open (it wasn't, which guarantees another ride!) and breathed their air and felt the power of their land where the forest meets the sea.    I adore the forest of cedars and moss and ferns.  I love the clouds and rain, the mountains and fjords, the streams and hills.  I love this Salish land more than i can express. 

We talked all day.  We talked about the news, about our daily lives, about bicycles, but we kept coming back to the reasons that we ride.  We agreed that the physical exertion is valuable.  We both share a joy in such an amazingly elegant machine driven by our own power (and the fuel at the bakeries along the way).  We agreed that the pure fun of the wind in our hair, the rain on our face, the road moving beneath us is a pleasure that would be hard to live without

But for both of us just the being there is the heart of this thing.  The bicycle is just the means, the thing that gets us there and puts us right in the world.  Feeling the world, experiencing the places, the things, the weather.  Being in it, maybe even being a tiny part of it briefly, i feel special.  My joy is deep.  Like so many rides, the places and the experience, and the honor of the experience will stay with me for a long time.

That and a little yellow dog sliding across the road.