On Friday I returned from my summer tour around north Wales, and again it was one I cut short. In contrast with my last tour, which was cut short because of poor weather and tiredness, this one was cut short because of heat. We’ve had weeks of sun (for a change) and while it’s been fantastic for lazing around in, it’s not great for cycle touring in. I’d followed through with my training plans, and had been cycling a lot more, including a lot more hills, so I was feeling fit and strong ahead of this tour. However, it was still difficult to ride a fully loaded touring bike up lots of the hills on my route, and again I spent a lot of time pushing. In the intense heat, this meant that I was sweating huge amounts, with it running into and stinging my eyes, yet I was having to ration my water intake as there weren’t many places to top up along the way.
I’d make it to camp and then have no shelter from the heat, and none of them had anywhere to sit either, so sitting in the sun on the hard dry ground after a long day in the saddle was taking its toll on my body. My back was aching, my hands were sore and blistered, even my feet were blistered from walking so much, and of course I was saddle sore too. On the fourth day I had a decision to make; whether to carry on with my planned route or cut it short, and when I turned into a headwind and another steep hill my mind was made up. On the last two days I rode 80 kilometres each day, and finally had a sense of achievement from the tour, but otherwise I wasn’t enjoying it again and it’s something that started to bother me.
I think I was on the Mawddach Trail on day three, when I realised that I was exactly where I wanted to be, and the conditions were perfect for that time and place, and yet I was just going through the motions and not even experiencing it. There seemed to be nothing I could do to gain enjoyment from this activity that I have spent so much time dreaming about doing. It was a sort of out of body experience, like I wasn’t really there, and it bothers me. I was telling myself that here I was, doing this thing that I’d been dreaming about, right now; to live in the moment, to experience the feelings, the sights and smells… but to no avail. I just seem to have cycled 300 kilometres around beautiful north Wales and have nothing to take from it.
Perhaps it’s something I can work on, but I’m not sure how. Practise, maybe. Start with simply sitting and noticing. I’ve been meditating, although not for the last month or so, regularly this year, but it doesn’t appear to have helped. I’m going to take a walk this afternoon and see if I can try to experience it more than I did the tour.
In some respects, I wish I’d taken a rest day instead of cutting short my tour. I know that day three is always the toughest, and I know that Darren Alff insists not to quit at this point, but I remembered this too late and I’d already gone past the point of being able to continue my original route. Anyway, it’s done now. I’m not sure whether I’ll do more touring yet… perhaps if I can find a way to enjoy the experience again, to feel that sense of freedom that I had back in 2006.
