The Last Lap of First Term by Sol Milne

Blowing off Steam Two Wheels at a Time

The first term drawing to a close, and exams edging nearer and nearer, we turn to our sports to blow off steam. We were to cycle about 20km up the road, past Shawnigan Lake up to a campsite in the remote woodlands.

We left at 2 p.m., wheeling up the hilly incline of the highway side-road. Barely seconds into our journey came moans of aching ankles and collapsed calves. Our more hardcore cyclists smirked in contempt and whizzed ahead. Away from the highway, the drone and throb of busy vehicles died away and we admired the tranquil countryside – pine trees swaying in the cool breeze that numbed our knuckles and deer rooting about in the shrubbery to make sure no berries or new leaves had been overlooked. A lonely Labrador in a field spun in circles, a look of grim determination on his face as he tried fruitlessly to eat his own tail.

We had forgotten how quiet things could be, having become used to the steady buzz of the highway.

We trundled on as the hills grew steeper, belting out the lyrics of pop songs and pumping the pedals to the beat in our head. As we got higher, grumbles rang out about the penetrating wind soaring up our sleeves. But the strenuous push warmed us as we panted past Shawnigan Lake, amber light reflecting from the water and playing pictures on our worn out faces.

We reached the campsite a few hills later, cracked out the tents and started a fire. Changed and clean, we cozied up to the fire and passed around plates of sausages, pasta, baguettes and brie. We sat around the dancing flame telling stories, laughing at gossip and telling jokes.

Out came a guitar and we hummed and sang to Jack Johnson tunes as the smoke curled into the dying light. Then came a set of Feist and KT Tunstall, harmonies added impeccably by all the girls. Around the fire everyone brought forth some unbeknown talent, be it singing, joking, or storytelling. It was a night that I doubt any of the group will forget for a while.

We slept well, packed our tents away early, and went down the river to do community service and clear up the park. Though not necessarily obvious, garbage was bountiful. We filled our bags and two of us even found a fridge door wedged in the flow of the river. We piled the garbage into the school truck and went about our way, the hard saddles wreaking havoc on our tender rumps as we pedaled slowly homewards.