My Daily Commute: Defending Helm's Deep in the Battle for Middle Earth

For those who have a long commute, audio books can be a great friend. I don't mean this just for bicycle commuters, but for motorists as well. I had always thought of audio books as "cheating" in some way; but audio books are a wonderful luxury. They allow you to "read" while multitasking, and in some ways it makes you feel like a kid again - having an adult read at your bedside, leaving you free to construct the imagery in your mind's eye without the distraction of the printed word.

Now, before you jump all over me about the safety of listening to such things while I am biking, know that I am NOT using headphones and do not ever advocate using them. I have done so in the past and in my opinion, they do hamper your ability to focus on your surroundings. I have a small speaker that I have attached to my bicycle frame, and my MP3 player is similary velcro'ed where I can reach it to change tracks. The sound quality is poor, but with audio books it is a non-issue. The volume is such that in heavy traffic when I need to focus on defensive driving, I can't hear it anyway. When I get to the side streets and quiet suburbs, I can keep one ear out for traffic and devote another portion of my brain to following the story.

I am currently listening to "The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien, and find that the story is a little too perfect for bike commuting in the winter. So much so, that on some occasions, I have had the bewildering experience of the superimposition of Middle Earth upon the real world. As Fodo and the fellowship have taken their journey through the element amidst a growing darkness, I similarly embark on such a journey twice daily through increasing darkness, cold, rain and snow. My commute isn't always that dramatic, of course, but in the gloominess of cold, rainy days I find some comfort in the trudgery of the hardships faced by the fellowship.

Last week, New Jersey was deluged by flooding rain and gale-force winds. I was delighted to have come to the part of the story where the Men of Rohan participate in the battle of Helm's Deep, an intense battle fought in darkness and rain against ten thousand monster-like Orcs. As I fought my way through the wind, and the miserable rain, I put myself in this epic battle. The rain had flooded the streets to the point that I felt as though I was fording rivers in some ancient land instead of in the boring suburbs of NJ. The darkness and extreme wind and cold were miserable to deal with, but I savored the tactile experience. I was at once one of the Rohirrim, following Gandalf back to battle in the wind-driven rain. I felt the soldier's weariness in my legs, felt the cold numbness of war in my fingers, and each car that passed me by was an Orc rushing the wall. When I arrived at work, the rational part of me was relieved to be shedding my rain-soaked clothing and anticipated a cup of hot tea before delving into my work email. The child in me was disappointed to have put the battle on hold. We were so close to defeat, could the forces of men hold out? I would have to wait 8 hours in the ordinary world to find out.

That day, I got a lot of pitiful looks, troubled stares, whispers about my sanity. The raised eyebrows and disbelieving looks when I admitted that not only did I not mind riding, but I enjoyed it. Not one person seemed to believe me. I do enjoy weather of all sorts; this helps. But perhaps it is because I still delight in adventure; the child in me never really grew up. When we were ten, we jumped into cold oceans just for the thrill of swimming, ran outside in the rain for fun of getting wet. We played in the snow all day, warm from the exertion of building snowmen, snow forts, and epic snowball fights. So why at 31 should this thrill of experience wane into the dread of discomfort?

At the end of the day, I resolutely braved cold wind and drizzle to take my place once again in the battle of middle earth. Surely enough, by the time I arrived home, the battle of Helm's Deep was won and the rain ended leaving patches of cold stars in the sky. I was tired, cold, feeling sore, but not beaten.. We were victorious! The Rohirrim were saved, and I made another safe journey through the worst of conditions. It may not have been rational or comfortable in adult terms, but it was, for me, a celebration of raw experience. The kind you cannot get from inside your car, or your living room, or through your television. Some say that I have a death wish - and to them I ask, what is truly living if we liberate ourselves from discomfort, isolate ourselves from experiences, and always take the easy way out? I feel the very essence of life coursing through my veins when I ride, the thrill of rejecting the standard, the easy, the conventional... the lives truly lived, and truly *remembered* are not of the people who follow the rules and play it safe. They fade into obsurity; a different sort of death wish in my opinion. The easiest answer to this question is actually a rational one however; it has been proven that the life-extending health benefits of bicycle commuting outweight the risks by 20 to 1. Death hath no sway over me, quoth Arwen.

Tomorrow I journey across the dead marshes with Frodo and Sam. I can only hope the day is appropriately gray and dreary!