The “road closed” blockade encountered by the cyclist is, to her, an invitation to pedal around the orange sign, the striped barrel, the blinking lights. Her disbelief that there is truly an impossible to traverse breach in the road is steadfast. On an occasion when there is an actually gully so steep and rugged that it’s impossible to portage the bikes, or a completely missing bridge, exposing rushing water, she stands over her bike, in front of the obstacle, and drinks a long draw on the water bottle. She turns the bike around, backtracking toward the blockade. For the rest of the ride, all rules of the road are carefully followed. She has learned that apparently mutually exclusive qualities embodied within one human should be celebrated. Her contradictions create a bouquet of traits that confuse and entice.
