Adytum Sanctuary Life: Biking the Village Mossyrock

My Well Used Santa Cruz Mountain Bike- My Most Cherished Gift from Donn

Past an inquisitive two point buck I shooed off the road, “flying” alongside a robin for a good many yards neck to neck, nickering to the herd of horses and pack mules feeding with their head stretched over the barbed wire fence…

That's Lilly (in black), Sold By Our Medical Vision Center Manager to These Folks

this is the sweet simplicity of biking from Adytum to the village of Mossyrock.

It’s about an hour's bike ride if I explore the back roads and side streets. We have no bank here, no supermarket except a wooden floor general store. But we have the basics and the rest can be found ten miles east in Morton.

Have You Shopped In A Grocery Store With Wooden Floors?

The cats are hunting this early morning. I’ve never seen so many. They multiply like the ancient cars piled around many properties that seem a prerequisite for country life here.

Cattle stream to the fence line thinking I am there to feed.

No one is up yet as I pedal along. I capture the innocent essence of country life on an Indian summer morning when the fogs and mists rise up out of the valley to envelop the spires of Adytum in their mystery.

The spiderwebs I break as I pass are a portent of chill mornings to follow...

So many regain their youth listening to songs from high school. I regain mine staying connected to joy through my old Santa Cruz mountain bike. “It is”, I say without jest, “my $2000 cellulite treatment formula and my endorphin fix…” And laughingly I add...I traded in a car worth less than this bike!

My '98 Toyota Tacoma...If I Get "Newer/Bigger" I Can't Throw My Bike Into The Back of the Bed...

Alongside my natural progesterone and dietary changes implemented in my mid 30’s, biking is my core program for staying balanced and looking “lean and mean”….Combined with a largely vegan/raw diet (but not exclusively by any stretch…) it will get me in shape within two weeks for what I laughingly call “Donn’s bikini trips” – Optometry continuing education in the Caribbean, South America and Belize. And I’m sure it will do the same for you too.

Getting Ready for some Joy Time

What I haven’t written much about is the intense spiritual feeding that occurs as my legs do their rhythmic strokes without ever stopping and my breath comes in even draughts. My mind is free to soar

, to commune not only with the intensity of the natural world around me but with God…All the visual stimulus and fresh mountain air, the hayfields ready for cutting feed my spirit and refills my inner well.

The Buses Carry the Workers In

Hola and Gracias...I eat them every morning!

Now past bright yellow school busses on the right that bring the Latino laborers into the Pan American blueberry fields. I have purchased 150 pounds so far and harvested our own blueberries from 30 bushes at Adytum, some beginning to produce now. It’s not an easy life for them but perhaps they find their own rhythmic dance and meditate on all that is good while they work under blazing sun and oftentimes soft rains. I nod my thanks and pray over them as I stroke past. I get the blessing of a nod in return, acknowledgment we are all one.

Buenos Dias!

And on the left I zip past the DeGoede’s workers harvesting bulbs and hoeing between the rows of bright red alstilbe plumes that wave with the summer breeze. We wave to each other and I yell, “Hola!” I can always tell the few white workers with naked arms at work that haven’t the innate wisdom apparently to cover up against the ravages of a day in the fields. What a life…to be under the great blue sky that puts Montana’s Big Sky logo to shame…to hear the whinny of the horses and watch the hawks collecting mice that shelter under the Dahlias. To breathe clean air and work honestly with one’s hands…to stand firmly grounded on the famous Cinebar Loam, some of the finest soil in the world.

Safe Passage Under Highway 12 for the Workers and I

I come off Birley and take my Santa Cruz along the frontage road, now more colorful reds, oranges and yellows splashing in a rising wind on my left. Past the trailers that house permanent workmen and their families, I take the viaduct under Highway 12, built to safeguard the field hands as they pass over to the fields and greenhouses on the other side.

So Many Old Barns and Many Still In Active Use

DeGoedes owns 500 acres in all and their cousins run the Mt. Vernon Bulb fields further north. Pumping hard up the rockstrewn dusty road, I pop up to street level with a blaze of orange-red Diablo Croquisma rewarding my effort. Left now on the road I see Mossyrock in the distance, but I always lengthen my ride and divert past another privately owned blueberry field or head up to check on the Osprey nest on top of a phone pole overlooking the rest of the Degoede lands.

Osprey Nest

Past lazy dogs, dozing in the early morning sunshine, past crumbling old farmhouses, past barns and silos and all things country I suck this village life deep into my lungs.

We all need to add a little country to our “city” and we in the country need to add a little city to our “country”. Like the progesterone, the bike and the diet, it keeps us balanced.

My morning bike rides set the tone for my day. I stand on the pedals up the hill toward my truck, mercifully parked at the bottom of the hill that leads to Adytum. I’m not there yet- and may never be- where I bike the last half mile straight up. But I’m breathing hard. I’m well prayed. I’m well exercised. I’m well in my heart, mind, body and soul. I’m in Joy