BAK to real life

I was about five years old when I first remember seeing the cyclists stopped in my hometown of Nickerson. I was amazed by the fancy bicycles leaning against the walls of the downtown buildings I walked by almost every day, and all these people from far away places eating at the same cafe where I’d eat biscuits and gravy with my mom.

I don’t know if they were riders from Biking Across Kansas or those riding across the country on the TransAmerica trail, which runs close to Hutchinson, and through Nickerson and Sterling. But I know that moment stuck in my mind. The idea of using my own power to bike such long distances felt liberating to me, like the truest sense of freedom.

Life has a way of making us forget things like that.

At the beginning of the week, I wrote about how sometimes the inertia of life moves us from one task to another, from one crisis to the next. And along the way we sometimes barely pause long enough to consider if we want to be doing the things that we’re doing.

One of the aspects I most love about Biking Across Kansas is that the day’s work is clear - pedal to the next town. You have no other job. And though there are a number of variables that can’t be controlled, within that clear task there is immense freedom in how you get from Point A to Point B.

Of course, I also love the community of BAK and I love that I have time on my bike to reflect and think about any number of thoughts and ideas that get lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

Today, I’ll return to that busyness as the Kansas Legislature returns for a special session that in my view is completely unnecessary. The difference between the tax bills we passed and this new negotiated agreement is so small it’s hard to fathom how it wasn’t negotiated during the regular session - if, in fact, this who dispute was actually about tax policy and not some sort of power struggle. But that’s for another column.

This year was my 10th ride across the state - eight of them with BAK, and two of them independent bike-packing trips with friends when Covid forced us to cancel the organized ride. Every year I learn something about myself and come to find some insight on my life, and sometimes, the world.

It’s a constant that I see examples across the state about how little political differences mean to people who are oriented around a common goal - whether that’s people biking across the state or communities working to welcome them.

Also, there is something very special happening in small communities throughout the state. It’s largely quiet, as is typical in these humble towns that don’t often brag much about themselves. But there are unique businesses popping up across the state in places you wouldn’t expect. Some have new schools that the community has invested heavily in. Some have new residents who have found something special in a rural home. But there is life in these places, new life, that I haven’t seen as much in past years.

Maybe biking isn’t your thing. And that’s OK. But I hope you have a thing - a thing that pulls you back to those powerful moments of your childhood or reminds you of some time in your life when you felt free, or powerful, or unencumbered, or joyful.

Life, for all its hardships and challenges, for all its hills and headwinds, is supposed to have its tailwinds and downhills, too. It’s supposed to have moments of joy - the sort that well up from your soul. The sort that can’t be found in a purchase or a bank account or in a sense of control. The sort that comes from looking back at where you were, and considering what it took to get to where you are.

And I hope you look around to the people in your life, and thank the heavens that they are there with you. Some of us are very fortunate to have some very good people around us, and that’s not a luxury everyone enjoys.

When I look at the people around me, I am in awe that so many people I love and enjoy are in this world, in this state, in this same time, alongside me. In all the possible timelines that might have existed, this one brought all these wonderful, soulful, passionate, and genuine people into my orbit. I am forever grateful for that.

Life is for living.

We really have no other job each day. And though there are variables far out of our control, how the living looks, how we move from Point A to Point B and who comes along with us, well, that is entirely up to every one of us.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

BY ROBERT FROST

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.