This rather splendid activity I involved myself in took place in the rural district of Yarramundi. I accompanied ‘the boys’, Ben Irwin, David Wilkinson, Jordan Willis, Jarrod Quigley, Bailey McDougle and John Wright. This group had been forged through a Tabitha elective in which I was not involved with. Despite my absence during the genesis of this group, they warmly welcomed me into their ranks, as one of their own! They went as far to facilitate me a sturdy steed of a mountain bike. The bike and I grew quite close over our two journeys, tumbling though rocks, effortlessly riding through the toughest terrain in the Yarramundi area and, on occasions, tumbling into the think bush, which enclosed our already small and treacherous riding track. I feel as if the previous sentence was not quite quintessential of the relationship I created with my exuberantly wondrous bicycle. The only way I will be able to express such feelings is through poetry, specifically that of John Dunne. The following exert has been taken from ‘A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning’:
But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.
If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
I feel as if you too can now appreciate the bond made between man and machine. A bond, which can only be made when trudging through the harshest conditions. Where life can be taken away in a blink. Where every breath may be your last. The trust needed between myself and my monster was something incomparable to anything...