Reflections on my London to Edinburgh bike adventure
From May 6-11, I biked about 500 miles from London to Edinburgh as part of a charity ride for Friends of the Earth, the UK’s largest environmental advocacy organisation. Each night, I typed up a short reflection on my phone to send to a few friends and family members. I’ve compiled them here.
Day 1: False Starts Are a Start
Friends,
I’m writing at the end of day one of my six day cycle adventure to Edinburgh. It’s only about 7, but I am serious about it being the end, because I am beat.
Not because the day was physically demanding; thankfully, my goal of it barely affecting my legs at all was met. Instead, I’m beat because I spent last night totally nauseous and unable to sleep. For those of you who have known me for a long time, this should come as no surprise. Indeed, its pathetically predictable. Whenever I’m really excited and nervous, I do two things: get sick to my stomach and not sleep. At least I’m consistent.
If this weren’t enough of a shaky start, I managed to fall off my bike before we left the park. Come on! I’m still getting used to clip in pedals and there was an unexpected backup as we were biking out. Bam. Down. Fortunately, neither my body nor my spirit were bruised.
So, what can I tell you? The 24 core riders have fallen to 21, presumably the others were scared off by the weather. Speaking of which, it kinda sucks. It is so cold. I fear if it were much colder than today, I may be in bad shape. The rain mostly kept itself to a drizzle, though the last 15 of our 62 miles today featured a real rain storm. I decided I’d start singing every song I could think of about sunshine.
The group seems good, though its a bit hard to tell who is who since there were about 80 day riders today. The core riders are mostly men in their early 40s, it seems. Several are incredibly fit, but there’s a general attitude of “this is a ridiculous idea, let’s hope we make it.”
The most incredible surprise of the day was the guy who plans on going all the way to Edinburgh on q ridiculous tandem bike with a different person on the back each day. I’m incredibly curious how this will play out and i’ll keep you posted.
I now need to try to brace the cold and get to bed in the tent. Fortunately, we all have our own tiny pop up tents, I was quite concerned I’d have to share. I really hope my sleeping bag is up to the task.
Tomorrow the mileage goes up, but it’s flatter. Wish me luck.
Much love.
Joel
Day 2: 50/50
Friends,
I’m writing from my tent at the end of day 2 of my cycle journey to Edinburgh. A few people here have paid to stay in lodges rather than tents, but, tempting as this is, I decided that’s not the experience I signed up for. Does that mean I enjoyed camping last night? Absolutely not.
You should look up the song “the outdoor type” by the lemonheads. That’s how I feel about camping. It was so cold, I kept waking up shivering. I tried to pile all my clothes on top of me for heat. Shockingly, this was not a fool proof plan.
Despite this, I actually woke up today feeling reasonably well rested. And its a good thing, because the 85 miles we rode today is the most I’ve ever done. How am I feeling? My butt is very, very sore, but other than that I’m feeling good. Last 15 miles I started to really be sick of riding, but that was mostly because of the pouring rain.
It rained from lunch onward. Occasionally, it rained real hard. But, as they told me at the cycle shop in London, there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad kit. And since I funneled all my anxiety about the ride into waterproof cycle accessories, I was set. I actually felt fairly comfortable, despite the downpour. I regret nothing that I bought, only the things I could not buy. I know that capitalism creates false needs, but I think that long distance cycling creates needs needs.
So why 50/50? Despite rain all afternoon, this morning was incredible. Probably the best I can hope for this trip. Clear, flat, and beautiful. We were biking through marshes surrounded on either side by water and massive swans. Today, I also biked past a castle and more beautiful ancient churches than I could count.
I’m feeling confident that tonight will be better. I had the brilliant idea to take the massive plastic bag my tent packs into and use it as a sleeping bag cover. I’m doing a proof of concept right now, and its working far better than clothing pile.
I fear tomorrow is when its going to start to hurt. But, by the end of our 91 miles, i’ll be north of Leeds. That’s really far! Well done, me.
Thanks for your kind emails in support, and, of course, for all of your support leading up to this point. And now, I stretch and lube up my poor, wet bike.
Much love from Grantham,
Joel
Day 3: What I Signed Up For
Friends,
Right now, I’m enjoying a blue raspberry slush puppy in the Beverley Leisure Centre. What a nice surprise! This is not the only surprise of the day. Among the other surprises are: the weather is beautiful and my legs feel great.
Today, the weather held in the mid 50s and only rained about 10% of the time. It was so warm I didn’t even need my arm warmers! Meanwhile, the surroundings were just absolutely gorgeous. “Bloody idyllic,” as one rider put it (in a particularly funny combination of words). We biked past Lincoln Cathedral, over Humber Bridge, and between farm after farm. We biked through one village that advertised being “a community for 1100 years.” For lunch, we stopped at an organic flour mill. I’m really just too blessed to be part of this.
The hills increased today but my legs feel strong. Better, actually, than yesterday. I’ve been mostly riding on my own, in between the super strong dudes in the front and those who are really struggling in the back. My pace has been about 15 miles an hour.
It does get a little lonely on the road for so many hours. You might wonder what I’ve been thinking about. Very little, actually. Mostly, how much I have to pee. I’ve tried to think about things! For example, I was thinking this morning about the tupac song “never call you bitch again” and how its actually an incredibly disturbing song, since it basically concedes a history of domestic violence. I was also thinking about how simultaneously religious and angrily atheistic I’ve been feeling recently, and how the ride has heightened both these feelings. I also thought about whether there’s any band better than the national right now. All these thoughts kinda came and went, without me being able to focus on any of them to a point where I’d have anything valuable to say.
Tomorrow, shit gets pretty real. 92 miles over many more hills. I’ve managed to escape real pain so far, but we’ll see what tomorrow brings. Whatever it is, today was exactly the experience I signed up for. I feel so grateful to be on the other side of it.
Love from Beverely,
Joel
Day 4: Pain, Terror and Reward
Friends,
I’ll admit it: when I was enjoying my blue raspberry slush puppy yesterday, I was feeling pretty confident. Three days and over two hundred miles in and my legs, body and mind were still feeling great? Damn. I might make it the whole way without truly struggling.
Right, well, today very decidedly dissuaded me of that notion. Friends, it was so hard. It hurt so bad, both physically and mentally.
Before lunch, we had 50 miles of hills. Or, to be more specific, we had 40 miles of rolling hills and then a single 10 mile hill. I had been warned of this, but I thought “there can’t actually be a hill for 10 miles straight.” I was kinda right. It would be about 3 miles of one slope, then plateau for about 100 feet, then go again for another 4, and so on.
Where did this special hell happen? The north york moors national park. Now, as an American, I had never heard of a moor. It sounds kinda nice. And a national park definitely sounds nice. No. If anyone ever asks you if you wanna go to a moor, you tell that person to go fuck themself, because moors are terrible. It reminded me of Mordor, and, indeed, apparently that’s where Tolkien got his inspiration. Moors are mountainous, windy, dark places where the only vegetation is a low, thorny bush that looks like its been burned.
Amazingly, the long climb was okay. One of the hardest things I’ve done, but I just kept my eyes focused right in front of me and kept spinning my legs. After lunch, though, it started to pour cold, cold rain and things went downhill.
There was one last peak and it was our steepest yet. I was feeling confident and stood up to bomb the thing. I made it about two thirds when I hit a metal grating on the ground, popped up, and my wheel got away from me. Fell real hard on my right leg. Pissed but not shaken, I got back on and started pushing, but the fall had thrown off my gears and the chain fell off. I fell again, landing on my left and cutting my finger open on those stupid bushes.
At this point, I’m bleeding in the pouring rain with 15 miles to go until the next rest stop. I just lay attached to my bike for a second, starting to feel mentally shaken. For the first time, I was having trouble maintaining perspective and gratitude and joy and instead I was falling into thinking “I’m fucking freezing, bleeding, wet and in Mordor.”
It was at this point that I settled on a new mantra. I’ve been reading Cheryl strayed’s memoir of her time hiking the pacific crest trail (thanks for the rec, Sarah!). The epigram for one of the sections is a quote from an Emily Dickinson poem: “if your nerve deny you, go above your nerve.” I just began repeating this over and over and pedaled harder than I had yet in the trip.
Unfortunately, the moors had one last challenge for my bruised, bleeding body. Because we had spent all morning biking up, we now needed to come down. And it was terrifying. The downhills were so steep that you couldn’t see beyond each drop. The ground was soaked so I didn’t want to take any chances. I gripped the brakes for minutes on end. This is surprisingly hard! My triceps are actually really sore!
Ultimately, I made it. And tonight is the only night in a hotel. I just took the best shower of my life. I have a clean towel over my body. And I intend on sleeping very, very well.
Leading up to this ride, when I would tell people I was doing it, many would respond with some form of “are you really up for that?” This was well meaning enough, but it kinda upset me. I mean, I was clearly invested, why throw doubt into my mind? Despite my best efforts, I already had a lot of doubt myself. After today, though, I think I can say “yeah man, I AM up for it.” People have been saying that the next two days are supposed to be even harder, but right now I can only think about how much i’ve already done and how I never want to see a moor again.
Much love and gratitude from Great Stainton,
Joel
Day 5: If It Ain’t Rainin
Friends,
My dear and wise friend Jeremy tells me that at Westpoint they have a saying with regard to the virtues of rain. The saying is: “if it ain’t rainin, we ain’t trainin.” I like it. The issue is, I’m done training. I don’t wanna train anymore; I wanna get to Edinburgh and then go back to focusing on my yoga practice.
So, I spent the ride today trying to come up with some variations of the saying based on the two things I want most when I get to Edinburgh: a very smoky scotch and a very warm bath. My new sayings are: “if the sky ain’t roarin, the scotch ain’t pourin” and “if your toes ain’t blue, no bubble bath for you.”
I had ample opportunity to use these sayings today, because it poured the entire time. Literally poured, literally the entire time. And I learned that even waterproof gear has a breaking point: after 45 minutes of downpour, I was soaked through and through.
And it was cold. Really, really cold. Oh, and also windy! Super windy! By the end of each leg, I could feel neither my hands nor toes. Our afternoon rest area canceled on us, so we had to go to a much further spot. Because of this, I had one stretch of about three and a half hours of nonstop biking. This was one of the most difficult things I have ever done.
So, how’d I get on? Surprisingly well! The weather was just so extreme that you kinda had to laugh, otherwise you’d cry. And, despite the many hills, my legs were feeling really strong. The hills were steeper but shorter than yesterday: you could just grit your teeth and be done in five minutes rather than suffer for about an hour.
By last night, I was feeling a bit shaken. Today was supposed to be the hardest of the trip and I wasn’t sure how I would hold up. I think one of the ways that patriarchy hurts men is by convincing them that admitting weakness makes them less of a man. Fuck that noise. At dinner, I went to the support staff and told them I was really starting to struggle and wanted advice. I think that just by vocalising this, I was able to go into today feeling much more confident.
Now having made it to Alnwick, I have to say, it’s starting to feel pretty great that I’m so close. I usually have trouble letting myself feel proud of things I’ve done, but I feel real pride about this one. This ride is a real challenge for me. I mean, its not like the tour de France or anything, but it was very very far outside my comfort zone. I worked really hard to get ready for it, and then once it came, it threw a lot of surprises at me. But, god willing, tomorrow night i’ll have made it. And that’s just pretty great.
I wouldn’t have come this far, or have been able to go at all, without your support. I feel that very deeply, and it fills me love and gratitude. Real talk.
From Alnwick,
Joel
Day 6: Edinburgh
Friends,
I made it. I’m writing from my hotel room in Edinburgh. I got here, from London, on my bike.
They made us work for it today. I think it was the hardest day. Almost 100 miles, about 70 of which were intense hills, and occasionally extremely intense hills. To make things worse, it was the coldest its been. Hovered around 38 degrees. And, of course, it was pouring from 10am on.
But, I’m here.
Sounds cheesy, but on the worst sections of hills today, I tried to bring into my mind all the people who were believing in me. There was one section I really wanted to walk my bike up, but instead I just put my head down and counted through all the people that fill my life with love and support. I’m so grateful.
This ride has been a challenge but mostly its been a tremendous gift. I’m so fortunate: I just happened to see a flyer and signed up within an hour. I can’t imagine what my year would have been like if I hadn’t seen that flyer. Sometimes things work out.
I plan to try to reflect a bit more on the train ride home Sunday, but for now let me just say thank you again.
With love and gratitude from Edinburgh,
Joel
Day 8: Reflections
Friends,
One week later, I’m back in my room at Goodenough College. In some ways, it feels a little hard to believe I ever left. At the same time, my room feels strangely new to me, as if I’m coming back to different place than the one I left last Sunday morning.
My weekend in Edinburgh was excellent. Saturday included a totally indulgent evening of delicious vegan food and desserts, topped off by an excellent mezcal cocktail, all in the company of my wonderful friend Josie.
It’s probably too soon for me to have any clear reflections on all of this. Still, as I was coming back on the train this afternoon, with Wild open on my lap and Madman Across the Water on my headphones, I couldn’t help but have lots of thoughts wash over me. Since you’ve indulged me this far, let me continue to share just a few more.
The ride was both easier and much harder than I expected. In general, my legs held up great. I regularly had soreness, but never the acute shooting pains that I worried might come. My blister pads and muscle rub never came out. And, two nights removed, my muscles feel fine. At the same time, the weather introduced a set of demands that I just was not prepared for. I expected the rain, but not the freezing cold. When I signed up, I imagined my rest stops would be filled with yoga stretches in the sun, not soaked shivering in a crowd pushed up against a radiator. And I hadn’t thought through the reality of camping at all. All in all, I was less sore, but more tired, more cold, and more wet than I ever imagined.
Despite this, I was able to maintain perspective, gratitude and joy throughout almost every moment of the trip. This was a real mental discipline. After feeling left my hands and feet, it was hard to keep gratitude in my mind, but I’m proud to have held it there as much as I did.
The thought that focused me the most was how cruelly unpredictable health is, and how important it is for me to enjoy and protect it as long as I’m allowed. Having the strength of body to go on a trip like this is an incredible gift for which I tried to keep a constant sense of gratitude. The last day, when it was the coldest it had been, I found myself repeating: “Thank god for my health, thank god for my health…” Even as these words came out, though, I was also angrily conscious of the fact that, when it comes to health, there is no justice and there is no judge. I’m not sure how to reconcile these two impulses, but I spent much of the week in the conflict between them.
Beyond gratitude for my health, the ride also really focused my mind on the bizarre fact that I’m living in England for two years. As I’ve settled into a London routine, it’s become easy to forget the complete newness of everything at my doorstep. But, after we passed Cambridge last week, every road we took was a road I had never seen. Each little town was totally new to me. As I took the train back today, I could feel the country in a way I couldn’t before. My mind and body felt the roads I climbed just outside of each town that was called off. Coming into London, I felt the city as more situated within a physical and human landscape, rather than just an isolated capital.
And, although it’s too early to know, I think I felt myself as a little more situated as well. Some people suggested to me that a challenge like this would “change my life.” I was hesitant to make that kind of grandiose claim. I don’t think the ride changed my life. But I do think, maybe, that it kinda shocked me into remembering my life. For about 8-10 hours a day, I was alone in a saddle, often under fairly harsh conditions. This is far outside my routine and far outside my comfort zone. It forced me to remember where I was and why I had come here. It allowed me to think about where I’d been, where I want to go, and why. And it encouraged me to think constantly about all the people who had helped me get so far.
Basically, guys, it was really special. I’m so fortunate that so many people came together to make it possible for me. I’ve tried each night to find the words to make that feeling real, but I know I can’t totally capture it. Just trust me. The next week brings a whole new set of challenges for me—presenting my first solo paper at an academic conference!—but I’m coming into those challenges with a new clarity and new confidence. And, as more challenges come my way, I hope to maintain those qualities. If I do, I’ll have not just the bike ride, but also all of you to thank. Thank you so much.
With love and gratitude and joy from London,
Joel
