Bicycle Adventure in Pokhara

A Joyful Hello from Ashleigh

In her last post, Jenna mentioned being on edge of a bicycle adventure: I am still beaming from the fun. Rather than ride our mountain-bikes (functionally speaking: beach cruisers) up the mountain to the World Peace Stupa, we decided to follow a small road that snakes along the edge of the lake. Asphalt turns to dirt and gravel; city turns to mountain huts and terraced rice fields. My heart soars as we steer our bikes, sans brakes, between slurping mud puddles and sharp rocks. "This feels like running a rapid," I say to Jenna, the expert raft-guide who always chooses the smoothest line. I laugh as I fly over the biggest rocks and dodge the puddles on edge. As my pedaling legs dissolve into my joyful smile, I am reminded of what a country mouse I am. Remember the children's story? I can play the city life for a little while: the electric glow, the exhaust pipe face-powder, the loud sounds of street shops, stereos and car horns. But how I come alive when I fade into green! Village life, knee deep in rice-paddy mud and oxen-drawn plows, holds the alchemical magic that accesses my brightest glow. This is where I recharge.

Jenna and I laugh our way through small roadside stops like the Hungry Feel Guest House and the Benign Cafe. We laugh again at the two young Nepali men who follow us for miles on their motorbike: just smiling and staring at these two crazy women pedaling so freely. "Where did Tom and Lisa Hammet live when they were here?" I ask Jenna. "I hope it was here in the rice fields," says Jenna. "Just what I was thinking," I reply as I nearly swerve off the road, lost in the beauty of green.

We return our bikes after the gorgeous adventure and walk to the hotel dripping mud and sweat. A pot of lemon tea, a shower, reunion with the glowing faces of our team: what a way to live an afternoon.