BEST MADE PROJECTS

Trusting Your Intuition, by Rick Olson, Best Made Guide to Tour Cycling

While touring Yellowstone National Park my partner and I met a Dutch couple with decades of touring under their bottom brackets. I can’t remember their names, all I remember is the woman offering her single most important piece of advice while bike touring; trust your intuition. 

Intuition tells us not to ride back up the hill and stay the night in a fifth wheel belonging to a dubious fellow in a BLM bucket cap (His relentless efforts becoming increasingly futile upon mention of the Humboldt murderers) So we continue on our intended route, only to be waylaid moments later by a seedy older man asking if we’re OK or if we need anything. It’s not unusual for passersby to offer help in situations of obvious distress, but never had we been stopped like this. Our fully loaded bikes and current riding state indicated no sign of distress. I sent the old man on his way. 

Self-contained bicycle touring renders the individual staggeringly vulnerable. There are no barriers protecting you from third party forces. When it rains, you’re wet. When you go to bed at night, there’s no such thing as privacy. The added susceptibility is enlivening, but you must thoroughly heed that little voice in the back of your mind, for it is your only shelter. 

Intuition is a derivative of instinct, meaning it’s a natural state of behavior and requires no special training. Whether it can be improved upon is disputable, but often times—aside from the occasional light or dark beer dilemma—it remains idle in the comfort and convenience of everyday life. 

Following a hunch isn’t strictly reserved for dire circumstance. It can be tapped in situations as simple as making a quick pit stop at a small music shop to purchase a harmonica. While seemingly minuscule in the moment, these intuitive opportunities contribute profoundly on the journey ahead. When a stranger on a beat up mountain bike gave me a smirk in passing in Yosemite, I assumed it was due to my haggard state caused by an overeating episode the night before. But we all know how the old saying about “assuming” goes, so I decided to strike up a conversation. The man turned out to be climbing legend Ron Kauk, and months later I was met with exceptional hospitality in Santa Barbara from friends of his. 

Sometimes our intuitive process works subconsciously. Casually eating strawberries beneath the only shady tree in the rolling pastures of central Washington during the first heatwave of the season, a pickup crept towards me, the driver calling me over. Preparing to accept my lecture about trespassing I approached the car and was greeted with the coldest beer to ever grace my tongue. Despite my preconceived notion of harassment, I was still intuitively drawn to the vehicle in which sat a retired rancher who had experienced a dry palate enough times to assume I needed a morale libation. 

Intuitive reliance while bicycle touring creates an opportunity to dwell less upon caution and in turn embrace the bumps in the road that become the revered moments of the journey. Don’t chase trouble, but don’t hide from it either. 

Photos (in order): The well-toured couple from the Netherlands always rely on intuition on the road, Making eye contact with a stranger turned into a day-long philosophical conversation with climbing legend, Ron Kauk, All we wanted was to meet some characters in Shasta and they found us