Synergy

Synergy

“A dynamic state in which combined action is favored over the sum of individual component actions”

Woke up to 9 inches of the freshest, lightest powder the Northeast has ever seen. Shoveled the driveway as fast as I could. Mounted my new 29 x 2.5 tires on the singlespeed. Float is good. Wife took both children to visit their grandparents. Beautiful day, sunny, 28 degrees, slightly windy. Hit the road. Entered the woods, My Woods, to complete the loop, My Loop. Soft, fluffy, easy. Floated downhill the first ¼ mile. Giggling like a schoolgirl. Warm, too warm. Overdressed? We’ll see. Not a sound. Complete Silence. Snow covered trees buzzing by. Racing the shadows, the sun pacing me. Snow flying up from my front wheel. Who needs fenders. Effortless for now. Rolling over logs, sticks, rocks, suspension still locked out. Starting to warm up. Passed ‘My Spot’ where earlier last year I was glued to the ground checking out leaves. Glanced up, no leaves today, different view, no time. Crossed the small stream, stopped on the other side to listen to the rushing water. My hearing came back.. Back on my bike, dead silence again. No wind in the woods. Continued on, started climbing. Warmed up, started to sweat. Blood pumping. Bike and body in perfect harmony. Efficient, working, moving. Definitely over dressed. Opened the zipper to jacket. Heat rises, fogged glasses. Sweat dripping on toptube. Sun is still ahead of me. No animal tracks, no humans, a soft sea of white powder. Climbing, descending, floating, smiling, grunting. Falling, laughing. Wishing I had someone to share the moment with. Knowing I could never describe this experience. Attempting to jump blow downs from the ice storm. Having success, failing, sliding to the ground. White everywhere. Sensory deprivation. Playing a guessing game, when will I fall next? Stopped at the top of a hill. Savoring the views, the day. Feeling lucky. Alive. Warm. Looked up at the sky, the mix of cold air and warm sunlight was invigorating. Up the next hill, heart pumping, legs pumping, bursts of moist air being forced out of my lungs. Energy delivery in process, glycogen being used, electrolytes being burned, calories being spent, muscles heating up, everything working. Lactic acid being converted and buffered. Oxygen in, Carbon Dioxide out. Simple equation. Thinking about my 100 mile mountain bike race in Georgia this Fall. Are my competitors out on a day like today. Store this memory. I may need it someday when I need to go to my ‘Happy Place’ Sounds. What is that? Cross country skiers coming my way. I stop. We chat about the beautiful day and weather like we are residents sitting around the nursing home making small talk. The words aren’t spoken, but we know. We know we are lucky and privileged to be where we are. We are experiencing what it means to be alive. We smile, and before we part ways, we tell each other to enjoy the day, and mean it but it is overkill. We have, we are, and we will. We are part of the club. Our own club, the only members. We could have met in the summer in the same spot, it wouldn’t have been the same. Back on the bike, cold after stopping, have to heat up the engine again. Jump on Half Moon Trail, ride the familiar, now unfamiliar terrain. Crack a smile when I pass the site of the mud pit where my running club members threw mud at me during our Hash Run. Wonder where my red dress is. Warm again. Damn sun is still ahead of me. Still beating me. Laughing at me, dodging between trees, staying close enough, but far enough away. Arrive at the intersection of a main road. The noise!!!! Cars whizzing by. Trucks downshifting. Noise, too loud. Get away, cross the road. Race towards the Rail Trail. Quiet again. Enter neighborhood, enter a field and climb short hill. Big decent to the Rail Trail. Weight back, looking forward. Am I on the trail? Off the trail? Who cares. Warp speed downhill. Floating. Rooster tails from both tires. Giggling again. In control, totally out of control. Wide open, blazing a trail in an open field. Alive. Stop at bottom, look back up. A single 5 inch trench cut into the virgin powder. Sun glistening. No camera. Wouldn’t do it justice anyway. Laugh at the thought that most will have no idea what made that track. People don’t ride bikes in the snow. hahaha My secret. Rail Trail, 1 ½ miles to my house. Unplowed. Deep. Soft. Cross country ski tracks. Someone beat me to it. Deer tracks. Turkey tracks. Deer walk in straight lines, turkeys zig zag. Flat, pumping, quiet, speed, smiles, and sweat. Arrive home. Getting the look from the neighbors. I’m used to ‘The Look’. They don’t understand. Elated but sad. Epic day that will never be forgotten, but also never duplicated. That’s OK, the next one may be better. It may be horrible. No worries. Never know if you don’t get out there. Drive. Passion. Surprises. Life.