Chamber of reflection

I recently closed a 5-year chapter of my career, a majority of my working life. I'm always surprised by how these things happen. A bit of anticipation and minimal fanfare, then one day it's just over and you're sitting at home reflexively opening a Slack app that you can't log into anymore.

I need separation from routine in order to reflect, a discrete opportunity to go to a different place both mentally and physically. Riding my bike onto a ferry bound for Orcas Island offered that chance.

The ecology of the San Juan Islands is astounding. Significantly drier than the rest of western Washington, the islands are a breathtaking place to get lost on a bicycle. Idyllic valley farms give way to wind-beaten coastline. Madrones stand proudly on arid, rocky outcroppings. Hilltop imagery features western red cedar, sword ferns, and full-field views of the Cascade Range.

Aided by a tailwind, I rode across the island from the ferry terminal before starting the 2300-foot climb up Mt. Constitution. With sore legs from a weekend trail run, I spent a lot of time in the granny gear. If there's such a thing as suffering-aided reflection, I found some of it on this climb.

Views on the summit were their own reward. Smelling the sea breeze with a glaciated volcano in the distance is such a special part of living in Washington; I hope I never forget to treasure it. Descending back into town was pure type-1 fun, featuring a stop for a slice at Ladybug Pizza (8.5/10, surprisingly great). The last 9 miles to the ferry terminal rolled by quickly, warm afternoon sun dancing between ferns and oak leaves and onto the asphalt.

The Washington state ferry system is truly a marvel. I feel like a kid every time. There's something magical about riding your bike onto an impossibly large vessel, crossing the ocean, and pedaling away in a totally different world than the one you left.