A beautiful afternoon, an excellent time for a bicycle tour! I was a little anxious going off by myself. My sense of direction is not all that great. I asked for a map which, the way
drawn in red, was the tour guide for my solo bike jaunt.
At each intersection, I would stop and pull out the
map. The signs meant much more than when
passing them in the backseat of a van. It was if the geography was inside me instead of a movie screen view.
What fun! An incredible ride. I stopped to take pictures of villages tucked into hills. The descent to Sylvanes, site of yesterday’s visit, was a hoot. Then, which way should I
go? There were three choices provided, none of which happened to be on the map. Setting off on the straight ahead route, there was a clank and a stop. The chain was wrapped ‘round the crank, a free end hanging down.
Hmmm, what to do now. It was about 9 km to le Mas de Salel. Turning around, I retraced the way back. If I kept up my stride, I would not miss the soup. The hill climb got warm, though it had been chilly during its descent. The grade evened out and went downhill for a while. Between coasting and walking, I returned in an hour and a half.
So I started my tour with thoughts about maps, the difficulty in following them, and how they might fail. Like what happens with life plans and goals for 5 years ahead. And then, true to life, the totally unexpected occurred. Maps stopped being the issue, creativity becoming the guide. Sometimes the map’s good, sometimes the markings aren’t there or don’t match, and sometimes you just have to put the map in your pocket, and ride, coast, or walk. 