Travel Blog: Entry Three

I gripped the bicycle handles with the urgency of survival. I had a tendency to play it especially safe on unknown roads and in this case, the unknown was also foreign. The English countryside had a recognizable rural flavor to someone who had trekked winding Missouri roads. I often become impatient in the back of the pack, so I sped past my three friends as we made our way to Woolsthorpe, the ancient home of Sir Isaac Newton—“ancient” to a handful of young American students—just “old” to the English. At greater speeds, I became informed of the invisible resistance of air. It rushed past my ears the same way it had the first time I took my bike down a hill, losing none of the thrill. Every hill, turn and passing car presented a new minor challenge that made the ride what it was. It became quite easy to appreciate the concept of energy while pedaling up hills. We felt it not as the sinking feeling of filling up a gas tank, but the constant strain on our legs.

I hadn't had much time out of the manor prior to our ride. And whether or not people really have a need to experience the great outdoors every now and then, it certainly felt as though I was fulfilling this need. But what is so raw and natural about flying down a hill, paved through modern techniques on a fairly complex man-made machine? The inadequate cushion I sat upon wasn't a ripe pluck or fresh catch, yet it aided in my appreciation of nature. 

Upon arriving at Woolsthorpe, we begrudgingly handed over 5 pounds each to enter the property. After the feeling of authenticity delivered by the ride that took us off road and over fence, the house was dull and fake. Furnished with replacements and distractions, it was a severe disappointment. The only traces of the legendary mathematician's presence could be found in carvings on the walls. I thought of a prisoner trapped in a dull country house. No wonder he had so much time to think.

On the way home, we sampled the other side of the road under a sun that shone at a slightly different angle. The ride took a small toll on our bodies, but paid great dividends in beauty and experience. We saw a few fields of grazing animals; the initial wearers of authentic English wool. Some called out upon sighting us, but we weren't there to stay.