Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Reflections on Bellingham: Galbraith Mountain

I have tried, in the past, to write about mountain biking.  But it tends to fall flat, becoming either over sentimental and cliche or hopelessly lost in vague-ry and  stereotypes.  However it would be unfair to downplay the importance biking has had on my experience in Bellingham -- ultimately mountain biking brought me to a healthier place (spiritually and emotionally) and led me into a relationship with my, next to my wife, the closest friend I have had since high school.

A few years ago, after the birth of our first son, in the throws of post part em depression (which triggered a host of other things)  my wife entered a journey of intense spiritual healing and counseling.  After initial skepticism, which I wholeheartedly regret, I threw my full support behind her and walked faithfully with her on her journey.  A lot of what was revealed to her in the process was too much to bear alone and I have done my best to bear it with her.  Through the grace of God, we have walked faithfully on this journey together.  But I could not have done this without an external outlet into which I could pour my angst and sorrow and the horrifying range of emotions that I found myself struggling with.

At about the same time, maybe just after, I was, through a mutual friend, introduced to a local cabinet/furniture builder who was also a pretty devoted mountain biker.  It so happened that we mutually needed a friend, initially to ride with.  Me as I had been out of the sport for some time and before we had met had not really even thought of riding as a realistic outlet, he because the guys he rode with were generally much older and coming from a radically different place in life.  We started riding together.

My friend and I rode together frequently, sharing our life experience on the long climbs up and gradually becoming very close.  Without his friendship life in Bellingham would have been a much harder life to bear.  With out biking into which I could dump my emotional refuse life would have been much harder to bear.

Galbraith mountain became, gradually, my sanctuary and escape and has taken on a reverent place in my life.  My bike (a transition covert, the latest in my biking journey) is a money pit which I alternately neglect and spend too much time with is the medium upon which I have connected closest to Bellingham and my closest friend.

There will be riding in our new location -- where ever there are hills there will be those of us on two wheels building trails and pushing the boundaries -- but it will not be Galbraith Mountain which has become so much more than a system of trails.

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