Travel

I will be fine tuning the details of my summer holiday over the next few weeks, putting a pin down on all the "must" and "best" places as I prepare to visit one of the world's most beautiful places for cycling . . . . Belgium.

It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them.
— Ernest Hemingway

When I have the good fortune to escape, I am primarily driven by location, asking where I want to go and why. Then, of course, figuring out how much I can depend of two wheels to get around before putting down all those detail pins. And in the end, I have the luxury of enjoying the cadence of the ride on ground foreign to me, with the endless thrill of discovery that compliments every new backdrop. Travel changes me. It makes me wild with the thrill of newness. It gives me the gift of energy and time independence and burns off my anticipated overindulgence in beer and chocolate. It forces me into a relationship with the world.  But the lingering gift of travel is the reminder to look for the extreme beauty in my neighborhood, fine-tuning my eyes toward the infinite possibility of amazement coasting down the next hill. 

Whether your summer sends you to a different time zone or downtown. Consider the contours of the land from your saddle. You could fall in love with the journey.