What I remember most
What I remember most about my Scanlandia bike ride from
earlier this summer:
Crossing the mountains
Crossing fjords on ferries
Impossibly high bridges
Moose meat stroganoff
Long, slanty light
The sun
Wishing for the sun to come out
Wishing for the sun to go down
Winding down on switchbacks, thinking
this could be
the last day of my life
Mostly what I remember is the fear
a knife-edge,
precipice-inducing fear
the awful
feeling you get
when
lost
when
there are no maps
when
no one knows your name
and you speak an entirely different language
the fear that drives you to make a way when there is no way,
a fear that
numbs you into submission, to accept
that things might not go right, but no matter what you have
to keep going
the kind of fear that creates
Comments