The Road Less Travelled

It's possible, of course, to get from Leicestershire to York very easily. Jump in the car, head east along the A47 towards Peterborough, and hit the A1(M) north. From my house it's about two and a half hours. So why has it taken me two days? 

Because of the road in the photo, and dozens of others like it. I'm travelling slowly, never over 30mph. I'm wandering and meandering. I'm stopping all the time, to poke around and explore, to rest, to sleep (got to keep a handle on my sleep disorder, you see), and to pray. Most of the roads I'm travelling are as empty as the one in the photo. It's easy, when the journey is so quiet and slow, to journey well, to reflect and pray, to arrive at the end of the day as the right person, regardless of whether or not you end up in the right place. I think that matters. 

Robert Frost, in his famous poem, wrote about taking the road 'less travelled by' and said that this made 'all the difference'. It's a much misunderstood poem. People quote him today to suggest that going on the back roads and byways, to the strange and exotic places, living oddly and uniquely, is somehow superior to the ordinary road, the familiar places, the everyday life. Frost's poem, though, actually says the direct opposite of this. It's not the road that makes the difference, it's the traveller. I'm on the slow roads because I want to learn to travel well, on the bike but also in life. I want to learn to be prayerful, to be attentive, to be present in the moment not focused on the destination, to be patient. 

I don't want to avoid the motorways. I want to become the person who can travel the motorway well.

///massive.kilt.hiker