A Change In Perspective

Robin Williams (R.I.P) was on to something in Dead Poet’s Society when he had his charges get up on his desk to see things from a different perspective or angle. They showed appreciation and support for him when they stood on their desks as a kind of salute when he left the school at the end of the movie.

Biking, like driving, requires you to watch where you’re going. On the greenways, however, there are lots of long, straight stretches where you can (safely) enjoy the scenery and otherwise (safely) look somewhere else besides straight ahead. On one of my early rides on the Mingo Creek trail I happened to be looking down as I was climbing a hill. I was not in the cycling shape I’m in today and that particular climb was tough that day. About halfway up the hill I noticed an odd shape outlined on the surface of the trail.  I stopped to investigate and saw that it was a screwdriver partially sunk into the concrete. It almost looks like a fossil. I remember trying to imagine how it could have gotten there. It has become a welcome and familiar sight early in my rides on the way to the Neuse trail.

I took an afternoon ride not long ago and turned south out onto the trail. I went through Anderson Point Park after crossing the 264 bypass and crossed the bridge over Crabtree Creek. The weather was warm and sunny, so there were plenty of bikers, runners and walkers out there. But it was autumn and the leaves were falling and the foliage was thinning out. I reached Auburn Knightdale Road at a good pace. I passed a group of bikers, an older couple walking, then a mother pushing a baby in a stroller. The baby was a bit fussy. A few minutes later I was chugging along and starting to think about turning back. It was late in the afternoon and you don’t want to get too far away from home on a bike as it gets dark. I was looking down, concentrating on my pedaling pace (don’t worry, there was no one coming toward me) when I saw a flash of white that turned out to be a pacifier. I kept going for a few seconds before I realized why the baby might have been a bit fussy. It was a good time to turn around anyway and I came back to pick up the pacifier and take a quick drink. I was only a mile or two past the woman and the baby, and there were no entrances to the trail near her, so I had time. I caught up with her a few minutes later, slowed down and handed the pacifier to her. She smiled warmly and thanked me profusely. The baby had indeed dropped it and was not happy. His face lit up when she showed it to him and washed it off with water from her bottle before giving it back to him. He popped it in his mouth and grinned at me. It was hard not to grin myself as I pedaled on toward home. Since then I’ve had a few similar instances, including one with a nice lady’s keys.

The good feeling lasted as I passed more people on the trail. There are a number of benches and trail signs along that stretch, and most of them were occupied by walkers and families with children. My usual speed through there can reach 18, even 20 miles per hour, so I make sure to announce myself as I’m coming by. Almost everyone makes room and I wave as I go by to express thanks. Most people wave back. I checked the time as I got to the point where the Walnut Creek trail intersects with the Neuse trail. I had plenty of time, so I treated myself to a little detour. The Walnut Creek trail begins near Lake Johnson in west Raleigh and goes across the southern part of the city and ends by intersecting with the Neuse trail. It offers more interesting scenery – including views of downtown Raleigh when you come out on South Wilmington Street – but in parts has lots of twists and turns so you can’t go as fast. I rode it to where it goes under the I-440 beltline and turned around. On the way back I approached a sharp right turn near the back of a neighborhood that is, of course, a sharp left turn from the other direction. When you’re coming back you see it for some distance before making the right turn. Most of the time when you pass, you can’t really see anything because the leaves on the trees and bushes block your view.  But on this day most of the leaves were gone, and I had a grand view of what looked like three old buses, painted in a variety of colors. They looked like rejects from the Partridge Family (I suggest Google if you don’t recognize that pop culture reference). You don’t see the buses at all when you’re riding toward the beltline because of the angle and you barely see them for most of the year when you’re coming back because of the leaves. I finished the 25-mile ride that day in a little under two hours. That’s a little slow but not bad.

Finding keys and pacifiers on the trail is nice. Seeing those colorful old buses is interesting. Together they serve as a great reminder about the importance of looking at things from a different perspective or angle. You’ll often notice something you’ve overlooked.  Or perhaps even get out of a rut.