The Mountains in Wales & Some Metaphoric Mountains of my Own
How cycling and faith took me there
I was lucky. My best friend whose name was Mercy gave me her bike when she moved house. It was wonderful to finally have a bike aged 9, but I was sad to lose my friend. I had heard that you could cycle up what looked like mountains on a bike.
My father took me out on my bike to Twickenham a nearby town where it was busy and there were cars rushing to and fro, to get me used to the road I guess. I was terrified and never went back there.
Instead, I rode my bike over small hills near the river Thames close to our house, but at least I was prepared for busy roads and traffic.
There were no mountains there by the Thames at Richmond where I grew up. Of course sometimes mountains are invisible and are problems in disguise. My father told me about those mountains. He said
“Faith can move mountains”
Something that I never forgot.
I called my bike Trusty Steed. The wind whipped up behind me when I rode my bike fast, and I felt like I was riding a horse.
Then I outgrew my bike and it was my sister’s turn to have a new bike which my grandmother bought her, and so I had to wait until I was in my twenties and had a house and a child before I got my first brand new bike. That was over ten years of waiting.
But before that I lost my father. He moved away and I didn’t see him anymore.
Then I remembered what my father had said to me all those years ago
“Faith can move mountains”
So I prayed. A small prayer. I prayed that I would meet my father again somewhere.
One day a few months later, I was in a bakers during my lunch hour and there was my father standing in the bakers just like me. At first, I couldn’t believe it. Then I remembered my prayer.
“Faith can move mountains”
I went outside and scribbled a date and time on a piece of paper and asked my father to meet me. I didn’t know whether he would, or how he felt. He seemed upset.
I persuaded my boyfriend to come with me and to wait for me close by. The meeting place was a green in a busy town centre. There he was. There we were.
“Faith can move mountains.”
I still have the bike, and like @Dr.Preetisingh I feel that
“The mountains are calling me”
Which is why I now cycle very high. I cycle as high as I can in the countryside, away from the traffic to the mountains
“The mountains are calling me”
And there are the birds of prey
And there is the stillness
And there is the silence
(Photographs credited to the author)
“The mountains are calling me”
And so I cycle onwards…
With thanks to Sahil Patel and Dr. Preeti Singh for the prompt and for being there when I joined Medium last year. I feel our journeys have run contiguous on Medium and you have climbed mountains, metaphorical ones, always just a step ahead of me. You can read the inspiration for this story below:
