Road into the misty valley

On a mild autumn morning we leave Stanford and head in the direction of Greyton. We choose to leave a little ahead of the others, many of whom travel in the fast lane on their super bikes. Heaven forbid we should delay the group!

For some weird and wonderful reason, I forget my buff and also that it is always best to wear a jersey or other warm garment under my biker jacket for these early morning starts. As the cold snakes it’s way into every opening in my clothes , we enter a patch of heavy mist.

Super alert and aware of any possible danger lurking in the low visibility, we reduce speed and proceed with caution. Or at least what passes for caution in the case of an avid biker!

Every few seconds the mist lifts ever so slightly to allow us a glimpse of a sunny patch of fields or a dwelling. As we reach an intersection and I tense in anticipation I suddenly became aware that we know this patch of road and are using our prior knowledge to navigate without any real clarity.

In the point of stillness that exists as we speed along exposed and care-free – my discomfort becomes the life I live. I feel the cold seeping in under my t-shirt at the base of my spine and lean back to press my back against the top box. Relief.. and then an awareness of the other spots where the cold is set on chilling my body. A wee physical adjustment that creates an oh so brief illusion of control.

Suddenly the mist lifts and we enter a sun-filled landscape dotted with wind chargers lazily turning in the distance. The droplets running down my helmet visor evaporate as if they never existed and I can see clearly again. We pass familiar and unfamiliar sights. I see a man jogging along the road with his hands clasped behind his head – a strange pose as if he is practicing to be arrested. A lady in a reflective jacket serenely sweeping the Sunday morning streets of Caledon, touches my heart.

It feels as if the sunny surrounds bring life back into focus. I see small scenes of everyday life that make me think of our country and its challenges and joys. I am no longer in my body to the same degree, rather swirling around in my head.

I think of familiarity and of the new. Of travelling at speed and taking time. Of the illusion of control and going with the flow. Believing that I know where I am going and then realizing it has morphed into something entirely different. In the mist with limited vision the possibilities are myriad except if one relies on the Known to chart the way.

Not taking care of my body and its comfort can be distracting. Tears don’t last. There are surprises around every corner. Patches of light and clarity. It doesn’t really matter if those super bikes speed past us. In Greyton we will all be together – chatting, eating and drinking. Sharing snippets of both our rides and our lives. The superficial and the intimate. The mist and the sun.