Instead of attending a Sunday church service, and instead of keeping the Sabbath by staying home, I found an adventure today. It was for myself and that deep part of me that needs solitude and the open road, and today it came in the form of a 20ish mile bike ride.
I ventured to North Nashville and then out West on Highway 12 headed toward Ashland City. The hills were rolling, nothing like that 125th Street monster in Seattle, but a far cry from the greenways and their flat monotony. I found I could do it, the climbing hills on my bike. I found that it is months of bike riding, from those first days of walking up that Seattle hill, to finally making the three mile trip without stopping, to taking my first twenty mile ride. It's kind of like when I realized I was shooting 90% from the free throw line after all that practice. Only today I'm a 25 year old with a different kind of dream - the existential hope of existing at once in stillness and movement, the emotional hope of learning to accept the humanity that is given, the spiritual hope for that which is greater than me to be found deep in my innermost being. Somehow today I found those, on my 21 speed road bike.
After a few miles on Highway 12, I turned left down a Old Hydes Ferry Pike. I passed through the unincorporated town of Scottsboro, Tennessee, past the United Methodist church that was in session, the perfect country picture. I took a right onto Old Hickory and headed south for the river. The Cumberland River snakes through the land, twisting and turning every which way, and Bells Bend is one particular chunk of land in a rather large loop.
The wildflowers are in bloom, though I never noticed it until I left the city. I saw mostly yellows and whites but some purple and blue too. The Tennessee hills were all around me on the little travelled two lane road - you can see them in the distance miles and miles away, blue and hazy even on a clear day. My water was about gone when on the right I saw a park. Bells Bend Park, a new park under the Metro Park Board even clear out there. I filled up with water and noticed the literature about the area. It had been slated as a landfill when a few years ago, the city decided it should instead be a park. The building that was my refuge was completed last spring, and there are 808 acres of land nestled down by the Cumberland for hiking, birding, camping, etc.
I continued on my ride though as it turns out, Old Hickory dead ends at the river, and there is no bridge across. I briefly contemplated making the swim, but my better judgment prevailed even though home was only about two miles away taking the short cut. Jamie came and picked me up after church, and it was a pleasure to share this discovery with her and to feel her sharing my excitement. We will be back soon, I'm sure. This piece of country is only a twenty minute drive. In the meantime, I feel just a little bit more whole.
