I use the word pleasure reservedly. It has been a while since I've ridden any hills around the area where I live. That's not just due to work. I've had a particularly bad winter regarding my asthma. Now armed with a second inhaler, I use two in the morning and one at night (plus the reliever), the elephant that had been residing on my chest seems to have gone for a walk.
Entering this new world, one without the constant noise of aircraft, constant droning of traffic and general air of peacefulness, I was projected back the those days when as a child my friends and I would head out across the fields to play without a care in the world. This lasted some three minutes until I was found puffing my way up the steep Park Rd toward Hatherleigh Moor.
In all fairness, I have had a viral illness since Christmas. No not that one. Symptoms went away after about four weeks but I have't ever really fully recovered. Hence my visits to the asthma clinic. I'm about 20% down on my usual lung capacity and that makes a massive difference to my performance. Luckily I had all day to make this journey to the doctors to pick up my prescriptions and had every intention of enjoying my time away from home.
Out in the lanes, as my breath slowly returned and the strong South easterly wind battered my face, I rose above the houses to that wonderful view of Dartmoor in all its magnificence. It was then that, once again, I was struck by the peace surrounding me. Bird song ruled the roost. There seemed a much greater quantity of birds chirping than my in my recent memory. Perhaps they were laughing at us. We had watched when avian flu took it's toll on them. Now the tables had turned it was their turn, maybe.
Perhaps the biggest single difference to all the other thousands of times I had ridden this route was the lack of noise from aircraft some thirty-thousand feet above my head. It was eerily quiet, no cars, vans, planes. just a few dog walkers. It was like being thrown back 50 years in time to a slower quieter world. Perhaps that's the point? Is Covid-19 natures way of showing us what we need to get back to? Whatever the reason, I was still enjoying being out on my bike, despite achy legs and struggling lungs.
Further down the lane, that wound tortuously towards Okehampton, I came across a buzzard sat on a low branch of a tree. I'd never seen this before as they usually fly away just as I approach. He stared at me eagle-eyed, the sun reflecting on the golden yellow of his own eyes. I didn't seem to ruffle his feathers at all. I said hi and we sat in mutual admiration of the beautiful scenery that surrounded us.
After a few minutes I left, needing to get to the pharmacy prior to it closing for lunch. I had advice from my doctor that I should wait outside until the pharmacy only had one or two people in and then pounce. It transpired that there was no reason to have worried about people. On arrival, aside from staff, there was nobody there.
It was a hit and run, without the hit. There was even a two metre gap between those picking up prescriptions and the desk on which they were placed. I sat wondering how my one-metre long arm was supposed to stretch the two- metre distance to pick up my prescriptions when I remembered that the pharmacist also had a one-metre long arm too.The gap was clearly marked using yellow and black striped tape, the sort you expect in any hazardous environment. I was no sooner there than I had my prescriptions in my hand and could go home again. That felt like a relief.
Despite the lack of traffic, one driver took exception to my (correct) road positioning and eventually passed me by as close as he took while tooting the horn on his car. Why is it that the idiots are still driving? Oh yes, they tend to be the selfish people, don't they? I didn't care. I didn't even raise my voice. I was too busy enjoying the tail wind that had previously been my mortal enemy.
My legs and my mind felt weak. I think all this Coronavirus onslaught is taking it's toll on my mental stability. I try not to watch too much news, preferring to lose myself playing my piano, but whatever my thoughts it's hard to escape what's going on. Instead I find I am turning to all those strategies I have learned over the years like: meditation and mindfulness with a little yoga thrown in for good measure. I managed to find a gentle rhythm as I rode down the valley, away from Okehampton. It always makes me smile as I ride away from towns. It's nothing personal, I just much prefer to reside in the countryside surrounding it.
I turned away from the small road that usually masquerades as a major artery/ rat-run and was taken by the daffodils and primroses that were quietly growing in the sheltered aspect of an old stone bridge across the river near the just as old ex-post office in Brightley. The river shimmered and glittered, sparkled and shone in a way that captivated me. I stopped, resting my weary legs and I just stared, listening to the burbling river making its way toward the sea, feeling myself filling up with nature.
It was a haven of tranquility. Nature was celebrating spring, even if we weren't. Pussy-Willlows hung from bushes and Catkins too. Primroses seemed to have taken over the grass, their soft yellow flowers perfectly contrasted in the lush green grass. Nowhere ere there any signs of the ravaging storms that tore at us for weeks on end, flooding the roads and fields, along with many houses. There was a new peace upon this part of the world, as though the world is sighing with relief that, finally it had at least temporarily stopped the human onslaught that faced it daily.
I saw no cars on the way home until almost in Hatherleigh. Despite feeling weak mentally and physically I remembered why it was my bike was so important to me. It takes me into nature in such close proximity that nature ignores me. I become part of the scenery, part of the world, not in a destructive way, but as a passive observer of its wonders and a willing participant in it's natural gentle flow and ebb.
Last night as I sat dog-tired on my sofa, Boris announced that new, more restrictive measures on our movements, My heart sang when he clearly announced that we could still go out once a day to exercise by walking or cycling. For eleven hard years my cycle has helped me maintain better mental and physical health, providing exercise, routine and mindfulness. The irony that, now I feel better than I have in many years I am restricted to a life similar to the one I lived all that time in solitude and often despair, isn't wasted on me.
For those feeling so restricted, remember this: You have been asked to stay home for twelve weeks, maybe longer. Some people are restricted to that kind of lifestyle for many years, without proper support. That is why I have written so much and spoken so openly for over a decade now. Nothing I could have said or done would ever have made the point better than the crisis we are facing at the moment. Think of others. Support those you can and remember those whose lives are always this way and stay well yourselves.
See you next time..........................
