Bucket List and a Parable

I finally crossed something off my bucket list.  I biked through the Iron Horse Trail tunnel.  It's a 2-mile-long abandoned train tunnel that I've been wanting to ride through ever since we moved here the first time around and now I've finally done it.  Randy, Marcus, and Ethan got the chance to do it with Scouts but not me so I took advantage of the blissful time I had when Randy took all the boys but Henry to Utah.  It was also much easier to load my single bike into the back of the van than it would've been to load all the boys' bikes as well.
It was a beautiful, sunny Labor Day.  I was a little bit nervous to go where I'd never been before, with a baby, so I tried to be extra prepared.  (Randy's years in scouting have rubbed off on me a bit).  I packed some snacks and a water bottle, double-checked the directions online, found my parking pass, and even remembered Henry's bike helmet.  We stopped at the store for a couple of headlamps, and away we went.

I got Henry situated in his bike seat and rode the short distance from the parking lot to the tunnel entrance where I stopped to turn on our headlamps.  Henry was pretty confused by everything at this point.  We entered the tunnel with no one inside it or behind us and I bet I was only about fifty feet in when the complete darkness of the tunnel engulfed us.  I could hardly see.  I stopped to make sure my headlamp was working and it was, so figured I just needed to give my eyes some time to adjust to the dark and waited a bit before going forward.  I began biking again and still struggled along.  I could see a tiny pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel and could see a little bit of the ground just in front of my bike but that was it.  I felt like I was riding my bike through thick fog as I swerved over every little bump.  Two miles is a long distance when you're slowing weaving from side to side in darkness and I thought about turning around but my boys would've mocked me for my inability to ride my bike in the dark.  I couldn't figure out why it was so hard to see so I readjusted my headlamp again, waving my hand in front of it to be sure it worked, and then realized the problem.  I was wearing my sunglasses!!  Duh.

He never cried or made a sound, even when I asked him questions or tried to get him to sing a song with me.  But he sure looked cute!

The end of the tunnel

After I took off my sunglasses the whole tunnel opened up to me.  I could see the high ceilings up above and the walls on either side, as well as the small potholes created from the water dripping down from the ceiling.  I couldn't stop laughing at myself as we cruised right along and made it out of the other end of the tunnel in no time.  Henry sat quietly through the whole thing, illuminating the walls of the tunnel with his headlamp as he quickly glanced from side to side.  I'm pretty sure he was terrified and confused and thankfully too young to know what an idiot I was so that was nice.

Happy to be alive

We continued to bike along the 20-mile trail for a bit before I stopped so Henry could explore a snow shed.  Back in the day, the train companies built snow sheds to protect the track from avalanches.  They've restored a couple of them along the trail and on a beautiful summer day, it's hard to imagine that avalanches of snow are even a possibility.

the snow shed

My adventure buddy

Eventually, we turned around and biked back through the tunnel.  This time I remembered to take off my sunglasses!  It was a completely different experience going back as enough time had passed that the tunnel was filled with people biking, couples walking, and lots of kids with glow sticks riding along on biked and in strollers.
I can't help but think of my sunglasses and how something really difficult was created by my own doing.  Life can be hard.  Maybe we just need to figure out what is holding us back and do something about it.  Change starts with us to take off those "sunglasses" and enjoy the ride!