Prayer wheel

It's as if my whole life I've been on my bike. Looking down at that front hub going around and around. It's very meditative. Like a prayer wheel.

I just sit there and experience whatever comes my way. Sometimes I suffer. Sometimes it feels good, and sometimes my mind goes totally blank as I let the front hub spin the thoughts out of my mind and leave them on the road behind me.

When I go out on training rides now people always say "have fun." Having fun is not my motivation to ride and I never understand this. I do admit that sometimes it is fun. But most if the time I suffer, and then feel good when it is over.

I started doing distance rides at a pretty young age. (I had forgotten about the large back packs!) Now and then I had a companion but most of the time I was alone. I'm really supprised as I look back, that my parents allowed me that much freedom at such a young age.

Here is a photo of one of my first 100 mile ride attempts. We made it about 60 miles before we decided to hitch hike. But first Lynn wanted to rest, so we just went into some tall grass and took a short nap. Then Lynn let the air out of his front tire and held up his wheel with his thumb out. Right away we got a ride most of the rest of the way in the back of a farm truck. I've always remembered this trick as an option, but have never had to use it. I'm on the left and my friend Lynn on the right with the white shirt.

Lynn was a foster child. His family moved in right next door. His adoptive father was a church minister and had three foster children. Lynn and two foster daughters, Linda who was a native american, and Jill who was older. Both Jill and Linda were really sweet. The only people in the family in question were the parents. But I shouldn't judge them.

I really liked Lynn. He was stronger than me, a little older and more grown up for his age. He was always really kind to me and protective. He ran away from home about a year after this photo was taken. His father was really strict to a fault, and I didn't trust him or like him. I often worried about Lynn as they worked him so hard. About a week before he ran away he told me he was leaving but wouldn't tell me exactly when. It was top secret. Told me not to say anything and I didn't when they questioned me. He said he was going back to where he came from. I never saw him again, and it wasn't long before the family moved away. I suspect the father went to pastor another church somewhere else.

I think about Lynn sometimes as my front wheel spins around.