There was a time when I seriously feared and hated the onset of Dry Heat in Yuma, usually in March. Experience and old age have turned the experience into what could almost be called 'appreciation' and 'good humor.' It's not that I no longer feel the misery of heat; but now I can see past the temporary misery, and playfully romanticize it as noble suffering. Think of the dramatic religious procession in Bergman's "The Seventh Seal."
Besides, what fun can there be in leaving a place unless you really, really, want to leave? And it is getting like that, now.
But before I crawl out of winter's chrysalis, and stretch out my new wings of travel, let's think about what was accomplished this winter. It is 1/4 to 1/3 of the year, after all. I realize that most readers have no interest in bicycling, but they might be interested in the general principles that the cycling experience can illustrate.
Furthermore I will assume that the reader has a certain amount of sympathy with the noble quest of making outdoor exercise non-puritanical. Let's take Duty, Guilt, oppressive repetition, and drudgery out of it. Let's look for reasons for outdoor exercise other than 'because it is good for you.' So then, no more goodie-goodie; nor do we really need to be 'bad'; but let's be a little bad-ass at least.
When William James discussed the "moral equivalent of war," (Lecture XIV, The Value of Saintliness in "Varieties of Religious Experience") he argued that courage-with-poverty could fit the bill. My thinking runs in a different direction: towards intense outdoor sports as the moral equivalent of war.
There were supreme moments of excitement during this winter cycling season: moments when I ignored everything, including my self-consciousness; everything except half-crazy, bloodthirsty, male, tribal, hunter/warrior feelings. Sometimes this happens when the cyclist takes a noticeable step up in his athletic performance.
The feeling might be intensified by simultaneous competition and cooperation amongst the cyclists. The cyclist is most aware of the snapping heels of the cyclist ahead of him. He is also only a foot or two away from touching tires. If that happens a fairly serious injury (messed up shoulder or broken collar-bone) will usually result. Therefore the paceline of cyclists shares much of the psychology of a platoon of combat troops.
But even more, I've come to appreciate the synergy, the feeling of enlarged corporate tribal power, that comes from moving along, aggressively, with your mates.
By luck I found the book, "The Culture of War," by Martin van Creveld. In Chapter 6, "The Joy of Combat," he quotes a well-known historian, W.M. McNeill, on his military experiences:
The last thing you want to do is get solitary and unsociable, and start up another of those travel blogs that writes paeans to "Nature", sacred solitude, peace and harmony, and the rest of that sickly drivel.
Besides, what fun can there be in leaving a place unless you really, really, want to leave? And it is getting like that, now.
But before I crawl out of winter's chrysalis, and stretch out my new wings of travel, let's think about what was accomplished this winter. It is 1/4 to 1/3 of the year, after all. I realize that most readers have no interest in bicycling, but they might be interested in the general principles that the cycling experience can illustrate.
Furthermore I will assume that the reader has a certain amount of sympathy with the noble quest of making outdoor exercise non-puritanical. Let's take Duty, Guilt, oppressive repetition, and drudgery out of it. Let's look for reasons for outdoor exercise other than 'because it is good for you.' So then, no more goodie-goodie; nor do we really need to be 'bad'; but let's be a little bad-ass at least.
When William James discussed the "moral equivalent of war," (Lecture XIV, The Value of Saintliness in "Varieties of Religious Experience") he argued that courage-with-poverty could fit the bill. My thinking runs in a different direction: towards intense outdoor sports as the moral equivalent of war.
There were supreme moments of excitement during this winter cycling season: moments when I ignored everything, including my self-consciousness; everything except half-crazy, bloodthirsty, male, tribal, hunter/warrior feelings. Sometimes this happens when the cyclist takes a noticeable step up in his athletic performance.
The feeling might be intensified by simultaneous competition and cooperation amongst the cyclists. The cyclist is most aware of the snapping heels of the cyclist ahead of him. He is also only a foot or two away from touching tires. If that happens a fairly serious injury (messed up shoulder or broken collar-bone) will usually result. Therefore the paceline of cyclists shares much of the psychology of a platoon of combat troops.
But even more, I've come to appreciate the synergy, the feeling of enlarged corporate tribal power, that comes from moving along, aggressively, with your mates.
Hill Climb on annual Tour of the Gila near Silver City, NM |
By luck I found the book, "The Culture of War," by Martin van Creveld. In Chapter 6, "The Joy of Combat," he quotes a well-known historian, W.M. McNeill, on his military experiences:
Almost half a century after leaving the army, a famous American historian also recorded, not without surprise, how much he liked "strutting around" on the parade ground. "Words," he wrote, "are inadequate to describe the emotion aroused by the prolonged movement in unison that drilling involved. A sense of pervasive well-being is what I recall; more specifically, a strange sense of personal enlargement; a sort of swelling out, becoming bigger than life, thanks to participation in a collective ritual."Anthropology, assuming that it is more than conjecture, is real nature, rather than the PC, bowdlerized version of nature that is presented in coffee table books. Can you think of a constructive use of human anthropology in your outdoor activities? This isn't just a rhetorical question.
The last thing you want to do is get solitary and unsociable, and start up another of those travel blogs that writes paeans to "Nature", sacred solitude, peace and harmony, and the rest of that sickly drivel.
Comments
I think you have also given non-riders a better idea of why the professional ' domestique' enjoys what he does. He never gets much credit for what he does, except from his team leader (if he is any kind of leader) and from the team manager. He does it because he loves his work!
Really?
Some day you are going to drop off the edge of your "holier than thou" flat earth and there won't be anyone around to catch you. If you behaved in public like you do on this blog, you would have few if any friends. Thankfully you don't…and thus are quite likable in person. Your blog alter ego (emphasis on EGO) however seems to be compelled to denigrate people who are not like you. It gets tiresome, your anti postcard mentality. Does it take disparagement and distain to make you feel adequate? People who hold different viewpoints…are we getting it all wrong? I knew guys in high school who acted this way…know-it-alls, bullies. Did you get beat up a lot in high school? Are you trying to make up for it now?
I don't get the negativity. I think you need help. One would think "Peace, harmony and solitude," not to mention coffee table books full of postcards, would be good things. You've been reading to much James and not enough Dale Carnegie. Emote, just once…prove there is a heart beating in your hollow chest. Say something positive about something…anything that people do different that you, and do it in a way we can understand… something other than parables with big big words. Start by clicking "Like" on one of my "postcards"…it's a ten step program, tho…
Now I need to go for an un-noble run, just for the sake of exercise and exercise alone.
No truer words were ever spoken nor a bigger failure trying to convey the general principles that cycling can illustrate. Perhaps I 'got it' ONLY because I was once a bicyclist and also had exposure to the psychology involved in the culture of war.
Mark wants you to emote and that is what I thought you were doing in the paragraphs "There were supreme moments of excitement during this winter cycling season... But even more, I've come to appreciate the synergy, the feeling of enlarged corporate tribal power, that comes from moving along, aggressively, with your mates."
2. You are ignoring 97% of the post, and fixating on a side issue. This post is about the link between martial virtues (perhaps part of our anthropology) and the enjoyment of an outdoor sport.
3. You aren't discussing ideas and reasons. You are taking the ad hominem approach. Shame on you. You can do better.
4. But the real problem is that when I say that some IDEA is crap, you hear me saying that PERSON (who has that idea) is a "craphead." It would help if you stuck to ideas and stopped personalizing everything.
5. Weren't you complaining recently that bloggers are not so terribly honest, and that they do too much cheerleading? But when they give an honest opinion -- which usually bites to some extent -- you think they are being an old meanie.
Sorry we missed each other in southeastern AZ this year.
Ad hominem Mark
I've been riding pace lines off and on for close to forty years, without being exposed to the culture of war. I’m told, by those who have, that the purpose of drill and ceremonies is to instill the instantaneous and unquestioning response to command, without which a military unit would likely disintegrate under the stress of combat.
Bicycling is fun, it's exercise; it might be a job, but it's in no way comparable with military drilling. Sports are fun, and life improving, war is not. I think your comparisons are wrong on so many fronts.
You do have a tendency to disparage people who choose to live differently than you. Not all of us want to boondock, some of us watch TV, and many of us read fiction. Vive la difference, and why can’t we all just get along, without you telling us what we’re doing wrong. I personally enjoy a good post card from anywhere.
As for my campmate, I am always trying to convince him that there is such a thing as "enough" Mobility. No luck so far.
I am reminded almost everyday that no one really cares what I think and yet I can't help caring about what people think about me. Why is that?
I long for that day when I wear loud clothes and think nothing of it. I am getting there slowly.
Jim
I think this fellow expresses well what you said.
Funny how I can be more worried about what other people think of me than what I think of me. - A Vietnam Navy Fighter Pilot