Finding balance

I'm still finding my balance in the new normal of current life. When work first slowed down, I thought for sure I'd be blogging more. But sitting still and focusing is not an easy trick after years of being on the move all day, every day. As a dog walker biking between customers, I had to optimize my schedule and routes for maximum efficiency and then hit each day at top speed, carrying enough food to fuel me, and planning enough break time to eat it.

As you might guess from the photo, this particular joyride happened a couple weeks ago, when mornings were still chilly enough for three layers and bandanas still kept my ears warm instead of transforming into face masks. Now daily temps are hitting 70 degrees and above, and I'm yearning evermore to be outdoors, not to mention how much I miss my canine customers. But I digress....

Even though the meager 13 mile ride fell far short of meeting my daily needs, it was still a thrill to peruse Tualatin Hills Nature Park again, a familiar haunt when my young adults were younger. One of them even rose in the ranks there over the course of several years from volunteer to intern to employee, teaching nature camps. I appreciated having the time to move slowly and behold with awe nature's art show. 

This 222 acre oasis of nature in the city is a slice of wooded paradise and home to an array of wildlife. I spied two fawns from this bridge, though they were faster on hoof than I on  camera. If you live in the Portland metro area, I highly recommend visiting, especially with children. You can even drive there and park your car if you don't want to bike or take the Max blue line, which has a stop right at the top of the trail, 158th & Merlo. Be sure to wear your cloth mask, as it can be a challenge to keep six foot social distancing on some trails.

Besides the awesome trails, twisting and towering trees, wildlife sightings, and nature center, what I appreciate about the nature park is its role in reminding us that humans do not own this earth, we share it. Moreover we have destroyed countless acres of woods like these to suit ourselves, ravaging animals' habitat in the process. While preserves like this one allow us to experience joy and inner peace, we are, as a species, out of balance with the natural world.

 

I leave you with these photos for enjoyment and inspiration, including a deer who graced me with her presence long enough to capture on camera on a previous visit, and a reading recommendation for an op-ed article discussing the relationship between our imbalance with nature and COVID-19.

Stop and smell the roses

With apologies for the misleading post title, I invite you to please enjoy these floral photos of spring (there aren't actually any photos of roses posted, and you couldn't smell them through your electronic device if you tried). Getting around carfree has brought me closer to nature, both physically and in the sense of deeper appreciation. Since I'm not cruising past nature inside a car at motor vehicle speeds, I more readily enjoy the sights, sounds, and even smells of nature. They fill my heart with love for Mother Earth, yet another reason why I love being carfree!

 

 

 

 

Keeping life in perspective

After the last joyride, I was excited to plan my next adventure. While Portland is noted for its extensive park system, Washington County boasts its own fabulous green spaces and trails. I settled on Rood Bridge Park, one of the largest, where I once visited years ago with extra time to spare between scheduled visits for two nearby customers. I mapped out a familiar route to get there and a longer route home, making certain to get enough pedaling mileage.

Once upon a time about a decade ago, biking 7 miles round trip to the library and back was cause for celebration. Nowadays if I don't bike at least 20 miles in a day, I have too much pent up energy to fall asleep at night. Between walking dogs and biking between customers, I am (or rather was) physically active 6-10 hours on any given day. My work leaves (or rather left) me happy, fulfilled, hungry, and exhausted by the end of the day, and always made for interesting exchanges at routine doctor check ups when asked if I exercise at least 20 minutes a day, three times a week.

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Once past the eerily deserted, caution-taped playground, Rood Bridge looked the same as I remembered. As much as I am worried about loss of income and sad about missing my canine and cat customers, I was delighted to have unlimited time to meander this segment of Rock Creek Trail, walking my bike through most of the woodsy areas, over protruding tree roots. The trees, as always, brought me solace. They stand firmly grounded while swaying with the breeze, inspiring me to do the same during these times of profound change.

The stillness of the pond, aside from oscillating ripples of raindrops and trailing streams behind swimming ducks, was also a source of peace and comfort, a reminder of being one with the earth, part of the great circle of life.

The beauty of nature around me or perhaps of me being contained within nature, reminded me to keep worry in proper perspective - in balance with gratitude for cherished memories, with hope for more joyful times ahead, and with acceptance and reverence for the here and now, taking each day is it comes. And so, with those inspired insights and serenity in my heart, I put foot to pedal and made my way home, renewed and ready to tackle the more mundane tasks of everyday life

 

Finding myself at a crossroads

Friday's ride definitively convinced me that I need to keep taking daily joyrides - for both my physical health and my mental well-being - well, actually let's just say for my SANITY in these extraordinary, crazy times - and most of all JUST FOR FUN. After all, don't we all need a little fun in our lives right now, along with an excuse to take a break from checking the news?

After scrolling around on GoogleMaps, I settled on setting out to find a nature preserve by the name of North Abbey Creek Natural Area. The route would be simple enough, following Kaiser Road beyond the city setting into the greener countryside. With businesses closed and more people staying at home, now is a less terrifying time to travel rural roads that tend to be narrow, without bike lanes and with fast cars, including at least one impatient, irate driver in a big truck. 

I was not disappointed! There was hardly any traffic at all, and the din of civilization melted away into a sweet silence, broken only by the sounds of birds chirping, squirrels chattering, and horses whinnying. It was the type of quiet that invited me to exhale deeply and allow a feeling of peace to enter my heart. The type of quiet that compelled me to imagine that peace could be possible elsewhere in the world, if not today, then someday. The type of quiet that made me feel like part of the circle of life, like family with the animals and plants, at one with the universe.

The route's steep uphills were balanced out with coast-able downhills, though I must have cruised right past the nature preserve not recognizing the turnoff. I did find quaint old farmhouses, relics of the past, neighbors to gleaming mansions at the end of gated, long, winding driveways. I soaked in the beauty of fields and forests, the majesty of sprawling oaks and towering pines. There were no humans in sight, aside from a few in passing cars, though there were signs - literally, wooden roadside signs - to indicate their presence. One grouping proclaimed: "Trash abounds - near and far - please keep yours - in the car." Another set that made me chuckle read:  "Vodka's great - so is beer - neither one - is welcome here."

Ultimately I turned around at the intersection of Kaiser and Brooks, which got me thinking about the symbolism of these times being a crossroads in my life. Just a couple weeks ago I was pedaling up to 40 miles a day in between dog walks, getting around 6-8 hours of physical activity daily. I love my work and my commutes, but the schedule left me with little time or energy to just explore. Now here I am with not much else to do (not counting my to-do list) besides explore - both biking routes and alternative sources of income. In both cases, who knows where I'll be heading next. Wherever it is, I intend to embrace the ride with a positive attitude in spite of whatever challenges it presents.

Joyride - anxiety antidote for troubling times

So it's been a few years since my last post, you might have noticed or not. Life got busy and complicated and busier and more complicated and then bam, the sh*t hit the fan, and here we all are together in a pandemic.

Like a lot of folks, I am mostly out of work, namely dog walking and other pet care, a self-employment enterprise that has kept me moving on my feet or on my bicycle seat the better part of every day of every week, traveling from customer to customer. More about that later, but feel free to check out my 220 5-star reviews at www.rover.com/sit/anneev.

Anyway, yesterday morning I woke up to the same nightmare we're all waking up to each day and found myself simply overwhelmed by anxiety, mind racing, muscles tense. I breathed deeply, did my stretching, tried to talk myself out of it, kept busy with household tasks and organizing projects. The distraction helped but was not a cure.  

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Around 2pm I ran an errand, and by ran, I mean pedaled, of course, and no real surprise, started feeling better. Since my normal daily commute is around 20-35 miles, this short jaunt was just a tease. Hence began the inner dialogue and debate on the way home about what to do next. Dishes filled the sink, organizing projects sat disorganized, vegetables required cooking, laundry begged laundering, to-do list needed doing, plus the clouds were threatening rain at any moment.  

But the pedaling felt so good, physically, mentally, emotionally releasing and relieving. Damn the rain and to hell with the imaginary deadline for questionably critical tasks! If I raced home, no doubt I would make myself crazy again rehashing the news and social media sooner than any household chores or "to-do's" would get done. So I hung a right, deciding to follow Evergreen Parkway to the end and back, a mostly flat route I used to travel regularly, but haven't frequented in a while.

By the time I reached the west end of Evergreen, I was practically giddy. So giddy that rather than turn around, I turned south and just kept going until I hit downtown Hillsboro, posing for another goofy selfie in front of Hillsboro Civic Center. The plaza was empty, but the memory of it filled with farmers' market booths and shoppers brought me joy. By then my fuel tank (tummy, that is) was rumbling, a cause forwarded by the farmers' market memories, and only a few hours remained in the day before my early bird bedtime, so back toward home I pedaled.

On that last leg of my 17 mile detour, I decided to revive this blog and the Suburban Bike Ninja Facebook page because, hey, why not?  I've finally got time available, and at the very least these chronicles will serve as my own little diary of daily life and happenings in the historic spring of 2020. Further motivation springs from the possibility that some reader (maybe you?) is inspired to test out their bike as an anxiety antidote. Stay at home orders don't prohibit outdoor exercise, so give it a try - for your mental health, for your physical health, and just for fun. Share your thoughts and experience in the comments or on Facebook. And of course, wash your hands, don't touch your face, and keep 6+ feet between you and the next human! Happy pedaling 😁