gey
Here on the West Coast, we've got a vibrant road cycling scene. On any given spring-through-fall weekend, we can see hundreds and hundreds of racers showing up to battle it out for undersized medallions of tinly brass and filtered glory. The sport is more than a pastime for those who partake ... it's a way of life. Cycling becomes all-consuming and pleasure enducing like only the sweetest of drugs can accomplish - lucidity hovering unsteadily above escape.
Escape.
- - -
Today the road called to me for the first time in a long time. I've been snorting dirt for more weeks than i can remember, my head buried dust deep in it's dew darkened soils. But today, with the aches of stakes pounded and a spine twistily gnarled by faux-mansized labor ... the road beckoned.
And as I spun circles almost forgotten, up the loneliest roads able to be found an hour outside the Cruz ... it struck me ~
again,
that life slips past us,
faster than we choose to recognize.
- - -
i know it's trite, and i know it's morbid ... and i know that many a more talented brush has painted the scene with art, with imagination, with divinity guiding each stroke ...
but still,
the day remains ending.
ending.
and i'd like to taste a few, just a final few drops
of that sweet, beyond sweet elixir.
12 comments:
that life slips past us,
faster than we choose to recognize.
Have a child and it will slip by even faster. One second they are learning to walk, the next back flips on the trampoline to impress the girls.
i like this post.
they're all good, but this one...
...goes particularly good with tonight's M&M (music and margarita).
Did you take towelly on your ride Mike...?????
those road rides do leave the brain freer for ponderings
lately, the best i can come up with is 'gee, my position sure feels different on this bike...'
i choose to pretend that the fountain is endless
but at the same time,
try to savor every drop as if it's the only taste i get
wow, i'm a sucky scribbler.. but you're not.
Lovely, and well paired with the changing season hovering just up the way. I find that a little bit of solo time outside, on the bike or on foot, really brings it down to a low hum.
i am headed to the tub with my razor blades and coffee.
light the candles= and slip away into that sweet elixer.
You must be pooped. WE need to party for Watsonville.
Flowbee. That's what Tim Cahill calls it in the Oct '06 edition of Nat'l Geographic Adventure...
The "mental and physical absorption" he has experienced on many adventures... "lost in the execution, the performance, the seemingly unconscious and intuitive understanding of what was at stake and how, most precisely, to survive. It was a state free of consciousness, brooding, or even thinking in the ordinary sense."
Sounds like just another day spinning, spinning, spinning away.
Road's high cadence = Flowbee.
nome nailed it. I don't feel any older... till my 7 yo kidney punches me.
spring through fall? how bout all those winter club low-key race-like events going on now? USCF sactioned or not we nor-cali's are fortunate.
gNome - backflips? something tells me it was learned from someone.
pab - we're gettin' old, brudda.
anony - i miss good ole' towelly.
xBun - you crack me up, sistah.
oh ... wait, that's hip.
lxmas - yeah baby.
Elfdo - you said it, yo.
Brenty - it's on.
mojo - 'flowbee?' ... isn't that that thing that gives self-haircuts?
shawnydog - gitmo.
anony2 - fortunate? hell yes we are. and we pay for it.
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