It was a blessing to stay with Bill and Ann Testerman in Port Townsend

 

The weather began to clear up as we cycled through Deception Pass State Park.  The scenery was lovely.

 

We started pedaling in Anacortes heading south to Port Townsend.  The loading of the bikes was an involved process.

 

 

Denise and I arrived late on Thursday night in Seattle and were grateful to see our cousins Wendy and Henry (as well as Henry's fiancé Connie) and to spend time with them.  Emerging from Covid into the land of the living has been a slow and awkward process.

Bicycling Pilgrimage Across the United States

 

A Bicycling Pilgrimage across the United States

By The Rev. John Beach

     It is with excitement and dread that I look forward to a bicycle pilgrimage this summer from Seattle to Saugus.  This has been a long time in planning, and I have come to realize that the years I have available to do this have become few in number.  Though I have never been much of an athlete, I find that the exhilaration of biking has contributed significantly to my physical and emotional well being.  The connection between body and machine has allowed me to see the world very differently.

    My reasons for embarking on what some would view as a foolish enterprise are three fold.  First, bicycling over an extended period of time becomes a contemplative activity.  This is due to a combination of silence, elevated heart rate, and the removal of external stimuli (it is not only unsafe to listen to headphones while biking, it also clutters the mind).  Having time alone with my thoughts allows me to discern between the neurotic and the meaningful.  It is a prayerful exercise in which I become aware of voices which are not of my own fabrication.

   Secondly, it allows me be in communion with surrounding geography.  Ernest Hemmingway stated,   “It is by riding a bicycle that you can learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them.”  Driving in a car is like being in a hermetically sealed cocoon which removes you from the sounds, smells, and tactile sensations of the world around you.   The feel of the wind in my face, the smell of the vegetation unique to every location, making eye contact with people who have lives very different than mine, allow me to participate in something much larger than my own small life.    Watching the road before me change from urban centers into towering mountains and later into open prairies offers a glimpse into the riches found in this amazing country.   A pilgrimage is a journey in which you move simultaneously geographically and spiritually.  It is to travel both outside and within.  It also cleanses the soul of the more toxic elements of electronic communication.

     Thirdly, this trip will allow me to meet people I would not otherwise encounter over the course of my days.  As the poet, John O'Donohue writes in his poem For the Traveler

Every time you leave home,
Another road takes you
Into a world you were never in.
 
New strangers on other paths await.
New places that have never seen you
Will startle a little at your entry.
Old places that know you well
Will pretend nothing
Changed since your last visit

     We are a divided country in many ways.  I fear that too many of us have sought refuge in ideological silos and have become incapable of engaging in honest and loving conversations with those who live in situations very different than our own.  I am haunted by the comment by Paul Ricoeur 

“Tolerance is not a concession that I make to the other, it is the recognition of the principle that part of the truth escapes me.”

   I travel with the desire to expand my own capacity for tolerance and with the firm belief that part of the truth does escape me. 

      I am grateful that my wife, Denise, will be joining me for the first part of my journey from Seattle across the Olympic peninsula in Washington State.  She will join me later in Jackson, Wyoming to explore that beautiful part of the country.  The rest of the journey I will travel alone.  I have always been surrounded by loving and supportive friends and family.  Consequently, I have spent very little of my life alone.  I must confess that I find the prospect a bit terrifying.  I am challenged by the admonition of the mathematician Blaise Pascal who once wrote, “All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet place alone”.  I am also inspired by the spiritual counsel offered by the economist and one-time General Secretary of the United Nations, Dag Hammarskjöld, “Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, and great enough to die for”. 

Transporting Cross to an Ecumenical Good Friday Service

 

The Pedestrian Traffic Gave me a Wide Berth

Being Transformed by the Bicycle

 

     While stuck in traffic on a cold winter day in Montreal I turned on the radio.  The program Ideas was on, and that day’s broadcast dealt with the ways in which bicycles could transform our common life.  The program was still going on when I arrived at home, I found myself sitting in the driveway for another 20 minutes to hear the conclusion.  The commentator listed the benefits of city cycling: the end of urban gridlock traffic, the improvement of air quality, the financial freedom offered to families no longer required to maintain cars, the savings for our health care system, the mental health benefits, and the deepening of community life by virtue of being able to see each other’s faces.

   Having been converted, I went inside and convinced my wife that we should get rid of our car.  It was a hard sell, but we agreed to trade in our car on a pair of bikes which has had a profound effect on the quality of life for our family.  To name a few:

-I lost 10 pounds over the course of a few weeks with no other behavioral changes.

-We were able to make more substantial contributions towards our retirement savings and our children’s educational fund.

-I was able to cope with my own depression and anxiety.

-I became recognizable in the community.

   This last benefit became an asset in me forging my way as the priest of this urban neighborhood.  I became known as “that priest who rides a bike” to those who would otherwise have no interest in being involved in a church community.  It made me known to those seeking the pastoral ministry of the church at times of birth, marriage, and death. 

    While biking across town one day I accidentally joined a line of black limousines which comprised a funeral procession.  When we all stopped at the traffic light, an elderly woman on the sidewalk said to me, “Surely, father, they could have found room for you in one of the limousines”.  The light changed before I had opportunity to respond.   I suspect that the image had an impact on her for some time afterwards.

     My most cherished holiday memories are of biking along beautiful European bike trails with my family.  It has been a joy to participate in activities which elevate the heart rate and enables us to share a common experience.  It has also been a source of joy to discover that I am by no means unique as a middle aged ma whose primary fornm of transportation has been a bicycle.  I am encouraged by the words of H.G. Wells “When I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race.”