I have always been a romantic. Not in the roses and candles way, but in the way I easily fall in love with sweeping diverse Canadian landscapes or the little things in life.
As you know, I am a pretend cyclist who mostly stays on the paved pathways in the city. But I have always been intrigued by photos of cyclists riding down quintessential country roads surrounded by canola fields, rustic farm houses and and stretches of dirt and gravel roads.
I have a bike so I knew I could make my own version of riding down a dirty country road happen. It took a few years but I finally took my bike out on a country road.
I enlisted my friend Erin, an avid cyclist, and one of the few people I knew who would not be too judgy about my subpar cycling skills. We met at her place in Okotoks before we drove to a spot along a road just east of the city.
Erin planned a 40+ kilometre loopish route on a quiet stretch of road that promised the kind of scenery I’d been daydreaming about. She sent me the route earlier but I didn’t take the time to review the route. I trusted that she knew where we were going.
It was only about three kilometres into our ride that I got a flat on my front tire. Thankfully after we took the tire off, there was no actual puncture because it turns out my spare tubes were the wrong size. Perfect opportunity for a crash lesson in how to change a tire. I’ve had my bike for five years now and I have had a flat until now.
What a glorious day. No traffic. Just blue skies and golden fields. Funny how I grew up on country roads and spent years trying to get away from them. Now I can’t get enough of this simplistic beauty.