Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
or another, usually just vanishing at the first sign of attachment. Or maybe the second
sign. There were a few who behaved badly toward me, too—it has been a fair fight over-
all, I'd say—but in any case the idea of thinking forward about a love affair with not
only hope but confidence is brand new to me.
A couple of days ago when Jan and I were resting on the trail, she said: “Do you know
when I knew I loved you?”
She recalled the exact moment. It was in Provence, on the second day of our trip, and
she was still getting used to her bike, still a little shaky, and we were riding on a busy
road.
“You came up behind me and said you were riding to my outside,” Jan said. “'Don't
worry, the cars have to go around me,' you said. And I felt so taken care of.”
I remembered the moment, too. And I remember being conscious of precisely the same
thing, of wanting her to know that I want to take care of her. Now, after three days
of riding together on the GAP, feeling as though we might well have a life together, it
pleases me no end that such a turning point for us took place on bicycles.
This is a little silly, maybe, but my history of bicycling with girlfriends is catastroph-
ic. A couple of them weren't interested. A couple wanted to take short recreational rides
with me, but they weren't capable riders, and it was, for me, a bore—except that I was
constantly on the alert lest they wobble their way into traffic. One, who was a decent
athlete, though not a bicyclist, and very competitive, was intent on proving she could
keep up with me, which she couldn't. We went out for afternoon rides a few times. If I
rode ahead and set my pace, she felt neglected and angry; if I rode behind and let her
lead, she felt pandered to.
Catherine was always uneasy about my wanting to take long rides alone. No matter
how much I explained about rejuvenating solitude and about wanting to push myself
without having to worry about anyone else, no matter how many times I told her that
every time we rode together I spent my mental energy looking after her, she took it per-
sonally when I didn't want her along. So we took a handful of trips together by bike and
fought bitterly, without fail, on each one.
Jan's a talented rider, which is to say she's reasonably fit, with strong legs and the
right temperament. She has patience and tenacity and relishes rather than resents mak-
ing the effort. That's the test, really, sticking it out through fatigue and discomfort.
I knew this from our ride together in Provence, but this one on the GAP was different.
We weren't being looked after. We didn't have guides to mark the route ahead of us,
make the hotel arrangements, and carry our baggage in a sag wagon; we didn't have oth-
er cyclists around us, sharing our ride and our meals and our hotels and mitigating the
intensity of spending whole days of riding together.
