The Whisper at the Gateway

Just yesterday, a whisper of the wilds found its way to my doorstep. It was an invitation I hadn’t accepted in quite some time, a call to once again commune with the trusty bike that had been my companion on countless journeys. “Is the passion still alive?” I wondered. With a spirit of rediscovery, I ventured out to the state park, chasing the horizon east of town.

The park greeted me with open arms, its paths like arteries of the earth leading me to an unexpected encounter—a tunnel. It stood as a threshold, not just of land, but of time, a portal bridging the vibrant adventures of my youth with the unwritten tales of the morrow.

As I approached, the tunnel loomed larger, a monument to every mile I’d conquered and every path I’d yet to tread. Yet, it was the gate that stood before it that gave me pause—a barrier, both literal and metaphorical. Was it just a simple structure of metal, or a symbol of the barriers we encounter as the years gather behind us?

The gate was locked, a silent guardian to the tunnel’s secrets. It spoke without words, asking me questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Is it age that turns roads into walls? Is it time that transforms passions into memories?

I stood there, the echo of my heartbeat keeping time with the quiet rustle of the leaves. No, I wouldn’t meet specters of bygone days here—not beyond that gate. It seemed to tell me that some adventures are meant to be savored in the soul rather than chased on the trail.

With a gentle touch, I bid farewell to the path untaken, turning my bike around. The journey home was contemplative, a quiet conversation with the self about the nature of my bond with biking. Perhaps the fervor hadn’t fizzled; maybe it had simply matured, like a fine wine or a well-worn leather jacket.

The bike now stands as a testament to all the roads I’ve traveled and those I’ve yet to explore. The gate at the tunnel wasn’t a full stop, but a comma in the ongoing story of my life on two wheels. For the essence of biking isn’t in the distance covered but in the moments that breathe life into our souls, and in the understanding that not all gates are meant to be unlocked, but rather acknowledged as markers along the way.

On This Day: January 16th

Counting back to 2001:

• j16 – Travel log j16 in the year of the 23. Mom’s birthday and instead of a flower delivery, we got word she is in the hospital. On the coast and will continue our journey dissecting the Devil dust adventures in contrast with fat biking on the coastal beaches.
• Bozeman Commute – [No description provided]
• Winter’s Wild Chase – It was an epic match-up in the Bitterroots: me on my trusty fat bike (“Fatty”) and Mo on her sleek skate skis (“Slider”). Our battleground? The Moose Loop at Lolo Pass, graced with just a skiff of snow atop groomed trails.
• Knee Debacle – I love waking up at my friend’s house in Bozeman. Sten is up early and has coffee brewing and is the only friend I have that wakes up in my universe. Usually, I am faking sleep and just waiting around for everyone.
• Happy Birthday Mom – These virtual flowers are blooming across the Web Lodge just for you, Mom! They’re a small token of my immense love and appreciation for the most determined woman I know. You make every day brighter, even on the chilliest winter mornings.
• The Day Before … – Hello from Missoula, Montana! The sun’s playing hide and seek today, and I swear it’s about 16 degrees out. Yeah, that’s chilly in my book, and if you think otherwise, well, that’s on you. Can you sense the cold-induced edginess in my words?
• Shoveling Snow Adventures: A Tale of Frustration – Today, I decided to break the cycle of laziness and tackle that city ordinance that demands snow shoveling as exercise. Plus, I needed to mark Super Bowl Sunday on my calendar.
• I Went Todash – It’s been quite a while since I kicked off this blog journey. Today, as I found myself reading my early posts, it was like flipping through the pages of a book. What’s even more surprising is that I didn’t notice I was still online.
• Hungary – Good morning, it is Sunday and I slept in late by design. I can’t go out to do any activities because I have to go until Tuesday without food.
• Reflections on the Start of a Transformative Year – Wow, the way this year kicked off took me by surprise. I’ve never experienced such an intense mix of gains and losses in such a short span.
• Mount Marcy Tomorrow – Well, the web page is coming along and I just want to get it done as well as my resumes done on the job search sites before the semester begins. Tomorrow I hope to go ski and climb Mount Marcy.