I'm currently reading Be Brave, Be Strong: A Journey Across the Great Divide by Jill Homer. It's about her "record-breaking ride in the 2009 Tour Divide." At one point, she writes about riding in the mountains, and the sentiment is so beautifully expressed that...well, I hope that if she ever sees this, she won't object to having been quoted at length.
"...the injuries and the heat, the logistics and the repairs, the hunger and the fatigue, the distress about not having enough companionship and then having too much. These problems were all human failings, the outside world creeping in. Firmly locked in cruise control, I only needed to understand the fine mechanics of pedaling my bike. I pedaled my bike, and everything else fell into place, had purpose, and made sense."
That's a viewpoint, and a beautiful one. I don't know that that's my viewpoint, but I have felt that way some times. I believe that many people get this feeling. Some would say that those people are obsessed with riding, but I would disagree. I think that for them, riding is just a natural part of their lives.
My viewpoint is largely this: I get on my bike. I ride until I'm some miles from home, and then I feel I should turn back. But I don't want to. I want to keep going. And going. And end up some place I've never been.