At this moment it’s hard to believe our luck today. We found the coolest little inn on the shores of Lake Ontario. It’s run by Bonnie and her husband H and they have restored it lovingly with lots of antiques and original tin walls and ceilings and – oh I’ll just have to share pictures later – I can’t describe it. But I’m writing this blog from the 2nd floor veranda, listening to the water lap at the dock, with the sun reaching that late afternoon attitude where the shadows begin to lengthen.
Today was gorgeous- perfect riding conditions all day. Not a cloud in the sky and a high of about 68. The miles came easy as we passed farms, a few hamlets, and a few Amish buggies. I chose not to take pictures of the buggies – it felt kind of intrusive though I would have liked to share them with you. The drivers called good morning to me as I passed and we shared the sunlit road.
About two this afternoon Adam had to stop for a business call for a while. We stopped at the fairdale cemetery which seems like an interesting place to hang out for 45 minutes while he made his call.
I’ve seen more cemeteries on this trip in the last nine days then I’ve probably seen in the last 20 years. Maybe it’s the back roads that we’re following just happen to go through them or maybe I’m noticing the more as I get older.
I’m always drawn to the older stones in particular. I’m interested in the connection between here and now and the people’s lives lived so long ago. From some of the stones you can tell little stories but sometimes they just bring up questions – like the stones that I saw in the picture of Erastus and Harriet Glover. Harriet was only 18 when she died – though she was his bride. Was it during childbirth? And who is newton he’s seems too old to be Erastus’ son but too young to be his brother.
Being in the cemetery also reminds me of the conversation Megan and I had last night about yesterday’s rainy ride. We talked about the experience of trying to work through the pain of riding in the cold and rain. I felt safe enough although the thought of hypothermia crossed my mind. The conditions yesterday were perfect for it – tired cold and wet – mix it with not taking enough water and that’s when folks get hypothermia. But I was well hydrated and thinking clearly or at least I thought (I guess if you’re not thinking clearly you don’t necessarily know it). But I decided that I basically just had to deal with the fact that my hands were so cold they hurt, and then finally went numb. And then you start to ask yourself , “well is that such a bad thing? Am I really basically OK?” Sometimes we forget that it’s OK to be uncomfortable or in pain.
So I was talking to Megan about that last night and she said it reminded her of a koan. I think the gist of it is that a few students were asking the teacher “What do we do when it’s too hot? What do we do when it’s too cold?” The teacher said “When it’s too cold let the cold kill you. When it’s too hot let the heat kill you.” I think that’s the gist of it.
Hmmm. I’ll have to sit with that.
On the bike I was trying to just to experience the cold as the pain that it is. To move into the pain. There’s a point there where I think you move past it. Can you find a point where it loses its power over you? Pain is in the mind, not the body right? I don’t have this worked out by any stretch but I suspect I’ll have the opportunity to work on it further during this ride.
Anyway feeling no real pain today – just good scenery, good weather, and good company.