Monday, February 22, 2010

Crossing the Bridge Washed Out

Sunday the weather was amazing and I was so excited about finally being able to get on the road with my skateboard and do some serious miles. After church, a good lunch, and a few chores in the yard I got my gear together and set off on a 26 mile push through West and North Iredell. Training for the Surf2TheSurf long distance skateboarding trip across North Carolina planned for June to raise awareness of brain injury and money for Hinds Feet Farm’s day programs has been hampered greatly by this winter’s weather. Needless to say I was stoked to see temperatures in the high 50’s and low 60’s, sunshine, and dry roads! It was ON and I was bound and determined to test my fitness level to get a picture of where I stood. I had a chance on Saturday afternoon to go out and push for 14 miles on one of my normal training loops and had felt fairly good so the idea of stepping it up and deliberately choosing a route that had some big climbs and some long false flat sections was motivating. The term “false flat” comes from cycling and means a section of road that appears to be level or even slightly downhill but actually is up hill. The longer you are on a false flat the more it burns and knowing that I will see quite a bit of that type of terrain when I hit Leg 3 from Apex to Wilmington I knew Scotts Creek Road needed to be part of my training.

I headed away from the house in my normal path out of town and found myself locking into a fairly good rhythm. Traversing through the neighborhoods at the top of Race Street, Hedrick Drive, then out to Front Street, and a jaunt over to North Side Drive, I was feeling fine and my heart rate though high was in control. Everything felt like just another training day. The sport of long distance skateboarding for me has become a test of managing suffering. The more I can tolerate higher and higher levels of suffering the more I get out of it. I know, sick huh? I think all endurance related sports have this element as part of its key focal point and long distance skateboarding is no different.

My push was going well. The climb up Island Ford Road was hard, as usual, and my heart rate was high, but as the road leveled out heading toward West Iredell High School my recovery was again good. I was feeling the test of the climbs and passing them. By the time I made my turn north onto Old Mountain Road I had settled on a great pace and was in a zone. Old Mountain Road is one where concentration is critical because of the traffic and I felt like I was focused and rolling great. My friends Jason and Sherri had passed me somewhere and I learned later that Sherri had remarked that I looked like a man on a mission.

After several miles I came to my planned turn on to Miracle Farm Road, a fairly short rolling road that ends finally when it terminates at the bottom of a very steep hill where a small river flows through a beautiful little valley. The first downhill section is a favorite of mine because it has a good uphill after a fast section you can easily fly down. Then after another mile or so the descent to the river down that steep incline awaits. It’s a hard descent that requires a great deal of foot braking (literally putting your foot down on the pavement to slow you down) because of the bridge, stop sign, and ninety degree turn at the bottom. Still I felt in control on the board and was making my way through the section when I saw the first sign. “Road Closed 1500 Feet.” At first I was confused. How could that be? I mean I just came off of Old Mountain Road where I had been paying careful attention and I had not seen any warning of the road work. I continued forward. This time I surmised that the road must be just closed to local traffic only and I would not have any problems as I moved forward. Besides, if I was forced to turn back and re-route my push I was in a position to get caught out in the dark. By this time it was late afternoon and going forward with the route I only had about 10 miles to go to get home. Turning around would be over 16 miles back to the house and even at the pace I was traveling would have taken just a little less than 2 hours. At best I had an hour and fifteen or twenty minutes of daylight left.
In five-hundred feet was the next sign, “Road Closed 1000 Feet.” Again, I begin to rationalize that the road may be a bit rough but closed completely probably not. I continued on. Another five hundred and you guessed it “Road Closed 500 Feet.” At this point I stopped. This was the very steepest part of that descent and with the road’s potentially in bad condition just around the bend I dismounted my longboard and hung it through the straps of my backpack on my back. I begin the walk down the rest of the hill and as I turned the corner it became very apparent the reason for all the signs. The bridge that once stood at the bottom of the hill across a small river was gone. I blinked my eyes a bit as I stared at this incredibly large crane on my side of the river and what appeared to be the beginnings of a new bridge footing. Other than that, there was no sign of any way to cross. Again I began calculating the distance I would have to travel if I had to back track compared to the remaining daylight available and I knew I needed to figure out a way across. I could see the road I needed to be on. It was only a few hundred feet in front of me. I could clearly see my next turn and direction to travel to continue my training push home yet this deep ravine and small river stood in my way.

As I continued to walk toward the space that once was a bridge I began looking up and down the river to see if there was another way across. Surely there was a tree down, a foot bridge, or maybe even some rocks I could easily cross over. I did not see anything. All I could see was the huge ditch and a very deep fast moving stream of water swollen further by all the snow and rain we have had this winter. Right across the gap was my safe route home but regardless of how close getting across the river had to be accomplished before I could continue on my way.

When I reached the end of the road I walked up to the edge beside the crane. The water had been damned on the side and the river was now very narrow at the point but was moving very fast. As strong of a swimmer I am the idea of falling in that with a Camelbak backpack and a 42 inch skateboard strapped across my back was not appealing in the least so attempting to wade the creek was not part of the plan. I suspected that water was cold and hypothermia and skating wet another 10 miles or so was not a thrilling prospect either. I began to search the bank for something I could lay across but could not find anything and I just stood there a moment staring at the water obstacle in front of me, the road on the other side of the bank I needed to be on, and just for a moment seemed stuck. Going back would surely take me on a dark road home. Even though I had been alert I missed the signs on the previous road warning of the closing that could have encouraged me to alter my route. Once I was confronted with the “closed” signs it was too late. I was all in. Focusing on the raging water in front of me I just simply stood there.

Then, for some reason I looked to the right and out of the corner of my eye I saw a small one foot wide make shift footbridge that the construction workers building the bridge must have fashioned. Here I was standing looking straight ahead where the large bridge once stood and all I could think about was getting across at that very point when an alternative was simply a detour of a few feet. I began to laugh at the combination of my stupidity and the fact that for the first time in my long distance skateboarding career I was about to go hiking.

I made my way down the big rocks that the crew had put in place to stabilize the bank of the river which had been severely damaged by the very floods that must have taken the old bridge down. It was a bit slick but I was able to make it to the footbridge which was a great deal narrower than it even looked from above. The water was moving very swiftly underneath and I knew that falling in was not an option. I had my phone in my hand as I stepped slowly out on the one foot wide board. My thoughts were that I began to totter I would toss it to the bank across so that it would not get submerged and destroyed by going in the water with me. I figured I would be able to crawl out and at least call for someone to come pick me up or at least allow it to be used to help find the body. (Its funny how thoughts like that go through your mind). You see I use a program called Map My Tracks (www.mapmytracks.com) that uses the GPS of my phone to map my progress when I am out training so that if something happens my family can have someone come find me.

Crossing the shaky footbridge was a bit of a challenge but I made it fine. I knew if I fell to the left I had the risk of hitting my head on the board so I kept telling myself if you fall, fall right. It was narrow and yes it was not easy but it was still what I needed to do to get back on the path home. I climbed up the bank, stomped the dirt off of my shoes a bit, and began the push up the road on my board the whole time laughing and grinning about the crossing of the bridge washed out. In ten miles I was back at home.

As I was telling this story Monday morning to a friend of mine my friend said “You know there’s a message in that story?”

At first I did not see it but as I thought about it I agreed. Life is often times so much like that training push. It starts out with a great deal of hope and excitement. Yes, there is suffering that comes along the way like the big climbs or the “false flat” but for the most part as people we seem to move through it. We continue on with our life focused on what we want, the path we have chosen for ourselves, and oblivious to the signs that tell us that there is a detour coming up the road. Because we seem to suffer some but can handle it we begin to get this feeling of what I call false self awareness where we think we can pretty much handle anything. Don’t get me wrong. I do think God has created us to be a confident people but how often do we actually find ourselves all of a sudden standing at the end of the road staring at a bridge that has been washed away before we could cross it? Somehow along the route we have focused on a direction we have planned and when we do see a “road closed sign” we miss it, ignore it, or simply just do not believe it. We also often find ourselves looking at the direction from whence we came to this point and find that darkness waits if we try to retrace our steps. We are standing at the edge of a bridge no longer there but the prize, that road ultimately home, is just across the way. It is that road to life that is right there almost under our feet yet for some reason there is a chasm between us and it. Along the route we had even experienced times of false flat where we thought we were cruising down hill when in all actuality we were laboring to move forward. Once we arrive at the barrier impeding us we look straight ahead at it, just as I did looking across the ravine, singly focused on the space where once the bridge stood. Because of the long road to get to this point it is hard for us to look anywhere but in the direction we have been pushing when all along by simply diverting off of that path and looking for an answer we can find that small narrow footbridge off to the right. Yes, that path may seem hard but it is not as hard as the suffering that brought us to that point. That bridge might be narrow but it is not filled with near the dangers that that big open road of our own choosing was behind us. And the way home once we have crossed is solid under our feet. Turning back from this point leads ultimately to darkness but in front of us is enough light to keep us safe.

In Matthew Chapter 7 verse 14 it says “For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life…”

So, what is standing in your way from crossing over the footbridge that ultimately leads you home? What signs did you see but ignored that told you that you might be heading in the wrong direction? Is it possible that maybe you are so okay with your sufferings at the moment that you do not realize that there is something better or have you reached that space where a bridge once stood and decided rather to risk it any further you would just turn around and head back into the darkness?

Several years ago I wrote a bit of free verse that compared life to climbing a mountain. In it I noted how we as humans are apt to cling to a place along the way that is familiar even if it is painful because we fear the unknown more than familiar pain. What narrow footbridge seems to be more frightful to you than returning to the familiar suffering of the route that brought you this far?

God has a plan for your life. He does give you free will to choose that plan or stick with your own direction. Because He loves you he has laid down a footbridge through His Son Jesus Christ that will put you ultimately on the path to His love and faithfulness. Yes, it may be a narrow one but the end is so worth it.

So, what’s keeping you from crossing that bridge that is washed out in your life?