Some time on Friday was spent riding, traveling roads I’ve never been, and kind of getting lost. (Getting lost is part of the fun.)
I’ve had my bike for a few months and whenever I go out I have a destination in mind, but I can’t definitively say that I’ve ever made it to one of them. Reasons for that vary. The map I glanced at before heading out gets muddled in my mind; I get sidetracked; the sun sets and I abandon course.
⅔ in jest and ⅓ in justification of my inability to get to places I’ve designated as destinations, here’s a cliché.
Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it. — Greg Anderson
Journeys on my bike have taught me a lot about—you’ll never guess—photography.
First, I learned how to use my bike as a tripod. Then, I got a real tripod. My bike is always stable, but its height is fixed and its a huge fan of angles that stray fairly far from 180/0 degrees. Anyway, after acquiring my very expensive 3 legged friend, I learned how to tie it to my bike’s basket with my bike’s lock. I subsequently learned how wonderful it is. I’ve also learned a lot of technical stuff about shutter speed, aperture, noise, etc.
There are things I’m still in the process of learning, things that I haven’t quite figured out yet. For example, I haven’t mastered the technique of filming with a DSLR while riding.
Anyway, one of my frequent destinations is the top of an oversized hill. The hill intrigues me because instead of having a path to follow to the top, it has stairs. The stairs are lit. The lights change colors. It looks like an interesting place, but not quite interesting enough for me to rush over there. Who knows when (or if) I’ll actually climb those stairs? I’ve been having fun getting sidetracked so my interest in actually getting there is limited.