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On Fitness By Richard Seven
The Road TakenAfter nearly 2,000 miles on a bike and alone, possibility is the greatest discovery
TWENTY-EIGHT days, 222 hours of riding time and 1,939 miles on a solo bicycle trip into the Yukon will do wonders for a Northwest-style midlife crisis. It will cause you to lose weight, which Pat Rodden, a 46-year-old Whidbey Island man, needed. But whizzing through desolation and past grizzlies, sharing in the kindness of strangers, and depending on yourself, not convenience, will provide a far more lasting gift. Stepping outside what he calls our "fear-based culture" opened a vista of possibilities, the wonders of untamed nature and the fact that given a chance, people will root for you. The last 460 miles, all mud and gravel, were the hardest physically, but the first 500 miles were the hardest because quitting was an easier option then. Through the month-long ride, his only injury was a sore upper back from miles of traversing bumpy ground. Rodden, an executive for Fiori, a consumer research and design company, is a veteran rider, but his bike sat dormant for five years or so while he focused on family and work. His weight approached 240. He decided to challenge himself with not only a hard ride, but a lonely one away from his wife and two daughters. He had second thoughts from the start, but told himself he was setting an example for his kids. He might have quit before he began if he hadn't put pressure on himself by announcing his sojourn. "My heart feels light and strong and my lungs feel as if they have an almost unlimited capacity to breathe," he wrote at the trip's conclusion. "Despite my many previous attempts at losing weight, working out on stationary equipment or faddishly following the latest exercise trend, riding a bicycle in nature, day after day, has made me stronger than I have been in at least 15 years." About halfway through, Rodden crossed a mental barrier: from hoping he could do it to knowing he could. He needed the confidence and resolve as the road to Inuvik in the Arctic Mackenzie Delta got tougher. "I regained what I thought I had lost forever as a middle-aged person," Rodden says. "But I found people doing all kinds of things that would amaze you while many people in our society seem to have given up on themselves." In fact, his final blog entry gives little reflection on his achievement and much on the potential within all of us.
"I read of an older man who, with obvious personal hardship, was towing his wheelchair-bound wife behind his bicycle to experience Alaska firsthand . . . Anyone can continue to challenge themselves. It is not too late." You can read Rodden's near-daily entries and see photos of his trip at http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/beyondtheyukon. Here are a few heavily edited excerpts: Day 1 Riding the 60 miles up Whidbey Island to catch the first of today's ferry rides, it dawned on me that I would be passing through one of the largest cities of my entire journey today. Oak Harbor, with some 25,000 people. Day 4 I soon see a couple cycling southbound. We come to a halt and commence the cycle-tourist social ritual. We exchange plans, talk equipment, places and dreams. They are bubbly with energy and excitement for their journey, and it strikes a powerful chord with me. Day 11 I seem to have gotten into a pattern where it is a long day mentally and physically to crank out 60 or 70 miles followed by a good day where 90 miles comes relatively easily. Today had me doing some tough 8 percent climbs in lots of loose gravel. I might have hit the highest pass today (4,100 feet) . . . or maybe tomorrow. Day 13 I had a great tailwind and flew along trying to outrun the building storm clouds behind me. After about 30 miles I was getting excited to reach the Yukon after cycling the entire length of British Columbia. About 25 miles from the Alcan (highway) I hit some insanely steep inclines over and over again, knocking a bit of wind out of my sails. Day 24 The scenery was initially spectacular, and 25 miles clipped by down a river etched between limestone canyon walls. I am happy and feeling strong just three hours later. Then, the road heads up at an aggressive pitch while the "smooth" dirt is replaced by a mishmash of ragged gravel and washboard. I struggle uphill on a combination of foot and bike. The climb takes me 2.5 hours. Day 28 Finally, I reach the end of 450 miles of mud and dirt to find a supremely perfect asphalt road for the remaining 10 km into town. I arrive exhausted, relieved and excited while feeling a bit disappointed that I have reached the definitive end of my journey. I never felt very alone knowing you were all there behind me. Richard Seven is a Pacific Northwest magazine staff writer. He can be reached at rseven@seattletimes.com.
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