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Thursday, November 09, 2006

beautiful cross, do not fade into the night

I do envy those hard dawgs of winter ~

they that hibernate during the windy springs of rain and NRC sweep,
they that dust off wings and pump up lungs for late summer squashings,
they who's strength and resolve build to to meet, head-on,

the sleet that freezes hands,
the cold dark soul-sucking mud
reaching for you, through drivetrain
as purgatorial demons might
in some nightmare moment of chase, flee, devour.

- - -

And the glassy, classy, free-flowing days of road racing all too soon infest my psyche. The speed, oh ... the pure speed ~ calls to me, beckons, demands me pay tribute.

and i do.

- - -

Though satisfied with this past year, there are still scratches left un-itched. I find myself ... reaching for them.


somebody slap that hand.

4 comments:

X Bunny said...

slap
slap slap

there aren't enough kinds of slapping for you

it hasn't even snowed yet
it's barely a week after halloween

and your frame is still in pieces...

PAB said...

no way. scratch away, bro. cross is definitely a hoot, but my body keeps reminding me that i am a roadie.

your frame is one step closer to being a reality.

and i have renewed hope that this crazy experiment might actually work....

Nick said...

Jezz.. we haven't even had any Turkey yet and the road is calling out to you already huh?

I feel you though, pure speed is an addaction for sure, better than any crack and you might just live longer because of it!

Mud, rain, snow, mud, rain ,snow..

this is the mantra.....

Brennabella said...

K, I am psyched to suffer miserably in the wet muddness of Pac NW Cross... if only to have something awesome to write about...

pab, i hear you. when i hit the asphalt, my legs remember I love the road.