No Stupid Questions: How Do You Stay Intellectually Stimulated On The Road?

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A reader writes:

How do you keep the brain intellectually stimulated whilst on a long bicycle touring trip ? Reading, writing… any other tips?

Thanks for the question! Seriously, thank you. Now we’re into the good stuff!

I really wish more people would ask questions like this, instead of about the relative merits of 9- and 10-speed drivetrains and whether or not buying a vegan Brooks will help save the planet.

That’s because the details of your bike and gear are things you’ll forget about the moment you start riding – but you’re going to be living with the contents of your mind for every waking second.

And it’s an interestingly formulated question, too, because there’s an assumption here that the brain will need intellectual stimulation on a long cycle tour. 

So forgive me if, as part of my attempted answer, I question this assumption, among others that may be floating around within the topic of mind management for bicycle travellers.

I might as well start by relating some relevant parts of my mental journey as a long-distance cyclist. This is a personal blog, after all!

At the start of my first long cycle tour I was, like most Westerners of my generation, preoccupied mainly with stuff, information, and personal liberty. I thought these were the important inputs for a process that would transform me from blithe newbie into accomplished pedal-powered rider of Earth.

What I had failed to prepare for was the sudden absence of all the usual forms of intellectual stimuli.

(You have pre-empted this in your question, which makes you a wiser person than my younger self! Some of my advice here is, I suppose, directed at that excruciatingly self-obsessed 23-year-old white male who had to learn the hard way.)

To get back to the point: yes, things like reading and writing can help fill the void left by a sudden withdrawal from the information diet we’re all fed to some degree as part of the day-to-day of modern life.

Reading – aside from being intrinsically rewarding – is particularly good for filling long evening hours when you’re camped and fed and there are just too many hours of darkness ahead to spend them all sleeping. (I also, without shame, will happily confess to binge-watching downloaded Netflix episodes in my tent or hammock once the sun’s gone down.)

Personally, I’ve found writing – specifically journalling, which is how this blog started before anyone read it other than my mum (she still reads it) – a great way to unload persistent thoughts that have found no other form of expression or resolution. Indeed, it is true to say that my adoption of writing as an intellectual-creative outlet during long-distance cycle touring is the reason you’re reading these words now.

But! And this is the key point I want to emphasise: intellectually stimulating activities like these mostly just serve to compensate for widespread mind-management incompetence in Western society at large.

Others might refer to what I’m talking about as part of a more general “mental health crisis”, but that isn’t quite what we’re discussing here.

Wouldn’t it be nice if it was possible to cycle around the world without needing to stave off boredom with entertainment and distractions?

Good news: it is possible – we just might need to do a bit of training.

There are a few approaches you might take – and I’m loathe to use words like “mindfulness” and “meditation” because of the baggage they possess – but all involve learning how to rise above the background chatter of the mind and to find a place from where you can devote your full attention to the actual experience of being.

My basic advice is to try a few of these techniques and methods out for size, settle on one that works for you, and get practicing. (James wrote a guest post about a particularly intense such experience he had while cycle touring in India.)

On a bicycle, the world is constantly passing you by at an average of… ooh, somewhere between 13–20kmph? It is not something you can draw the curtains on and forget about until you reach your destination. Attempting to do so would be to deny reality. Cycle touring is a constant state of arrival and departure from everywhere. (I’m sure someone cleverer than me has already made that observation and put it into neater words.)

There may be a steep learning curve involved in perceiving everywhere as equally interesting. Yet I think this is one of the keys to cycle touring being actually enjoyable. Failure to learn tends to result in boredom.

Forgive me if I’m drifting off-topic, but I do worry that – in a world where most people seem to have their faces buried in miniature computer screens and their ears plugged with tiny loudspeakers the whole time – society is rapidly losing its ability to engage with the ground beneath its own feet/wheels.

Yet for me this is the entire point of going on a long journey, especially by bicycle, especially anywhere new.

Seen from that perspective, the act of cycle touring itself could – should? – provide all the intellectual stimulation anyone could wish for – even if that stimulation is occasionally an absence of stimulus and an opportunity to instead spend some quality time with your Self.

I well remember my early days of cycle touring when the act of riding, having become second nature, unleashed torrential thoughts to the point I began questioning my sanity.

And I’m glad I spent some time working through that, rather than building a dam of distractions to restrain it. Today it’s only very occasionally I’ll put on some bone-conduction headphones or fire up my e‑reader. When I’m in motion, I’m there to absorb the whole experience, whatever form it takes, so I’ve become very deliberate about being present for it.

Please feel free to take all I’ve said here with a pinch of salt. My aim is to highlight one of the less well-articulated aspect of life on two wheels: the effect it might have on the untrained mind. How people respond and adjust to the sudden change of perspective and routine is going to vary drastically from one rider to the next.

If nothing else, I hope I’ve helped draw attention to a relatively unconsidered aspect of life on the road – and I want to thank you again for raising the question.

Hope this helps!

Comments (skip to respond)

3 responses to “No Stupid Questions: How Do You Stay Intellectually Stimulated On The Road?”

  1. Michael Jones avatar
    Michael Jones

    Greetings all! Thank you Tom for choosing this particular question as I myself had wondered whether during the course of my recent tour there would come a time when I would literally run out of things to think about and I would find myself in zombie mode, simply pushing the pedals and ticking off mileage. What I found in reality over the course of 63 days in the saddle crossing the US on the Northern Tier was exactly the opposite. In fact, I found that I was constantly busy from the moment I would wake in the morning until I would pass out in the evening. A typical day would consist of breaking camp in the morning, where early on in my tour I was trying different ways to stow my gear and prepare for the day’s ride more efficiently in order to save time (it was taking me 90 minutes to break camp early on). Then, when I did hit the road, I was immediately immersed in the act of navigation, planning, picking safe lines for the ever-changing road conditions, thinking about where I would eat/resupply, bathrooms, singing (I sang a lot on tour), thinking about life and the scenery I was riding through in the moment, taking photos and video, there’s just so much to process! At day’s end I focused on making camp, getting clean-ish, eating, reflecting on the day, and documenting each day on social media before finally falling asleep. I never found the bottom of the well. On a side note, I am so glad that I took the time to document each day’s ride on Instagram (@canyonbandit1962). It’s wild how quickly you forget the day’s details! I highly recommend either journaling or creating a daily virtual record when you’re out there getting after it. Photographs alone won’t help you fully recall the experience.

  2. Ian Tait avatar

    I really like your answer, Tom, and I agree with it hugely. I find the changing landscape, even on a 2‑hour ride, can be fascinating; and there are almost always interested people to chat to. On a ride this morning a guy collecting blackberries walked over and spoke to me for about ten minutes, talking about my route, my bike and his apple and blackberry pie. 

    Call it lunacy, but I often imagine I am accompanied by someone — a friend, a son — and I run through things they’ve said previously. I chat to them; silently, I hope. And sometimes I sing — I can’t sing. Last week I passed by a temple known to accommodate Tom Cruise sometimes, and I spent a harmless hour imagining what we’d chat about if he was alongside me. My ‘imaginary friend’ as my wife called him when I told her (she did look a bit worried). 

    On a recent bike trip I took the outstanding novel ‘Stoner’ and it took me about 3 weeks to get through it — there was just so much to see, do, think and chat about.

    And I find a screen very destructive to my inner airy-fairy semi-meditative state. I try to avoid a screen, unless it’s an occasional visit to a cinema on a trip.

    Great question, great comments from both Tom and Ciaran.

  3. ciarangormleyac387d4c48 avatar
    ciarangormleyac387d4c48

    Great question & excellent answer Tom.I honestly think we are losing true touch with nature more & more & the bicycle replugs (Irish word:))us back in.
    I do a lot of micro tours (a few days) around the country & in Europe & I literally feel whole when I come back.
    I think our bodies & more so our minds are crying out for that reconnection.
    Love reading your stories & observations.If your ever in Ireland we could spin wheels & yarns,Ciaran.

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