I love traveling. I love visiting new places, exploring different states, and flying around the world. Although I have visited a couple foreign countries and a few states, I don’t often get the chance to go on big trips. My budget screams louder than my wanderlust. And sometimes my mode of transportation that brings me to my new adventure is my bike.
When I moved into my new city, I was excited. This would give me the chance to explore something new. However, what I had seen of the city of about 60,000 was not very impressive.
I decided to bike to the park that this city was famous for. I biked around it, twice. I parked my bike and sat next to the river. I called my gramma—so much for this big adventure. I did enjoy sitting by the river. Water calls my name. Whether a beach, a pond, or even a puddle, I have always loved water. There was nothing quite like the sound of water running over rocks and through the weeds, drowning out the noise of the traffic two parking lots behind. I sat there listening to the water and contemplating my situation. I could bike home and finish that movie I had started, or I could check out the part of the bike trail that ran near me. Remembering how much movies I had already watched that day motivated me to move my butt and at least bike the trail closest to my apartment.
As I biked along the trail, I stopped when I saw a path worn in the long underbrush—intriguing. “I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” I pushed my bike on the abandoned train tracks through the grass and trees. It was too thick in some parts to ride. I swatted the mosquitos and scratched away the grass brushing at my bare legs. The path opened up to an old railroad bridge. I parked my bike against a tree and ran onto the bridge. After running to both sides of the bridge, I sat down with my face in the setting sun. The water slowly flowed underneath the tracks, and fish swam in the stream. The water was slow enough for algae to grow, but still strong enough for the water to not be putrid. Toads and frogs chirped from either side of the bridge. The trees secluded the bridge from the rest of the world, and I just sat their taking it in. I have traveled around the world and to many states, but there was nothing quite like laying on that train bridge with the sun on my face listening to nature’s music.
Lying there made me realize that some of the greatest adventures aren’t necessarily half way across the globe. In fact, many of them were just a few miles from my home—I just had to be willing to look for them.