Day Fourteen: Ignore It and Ride Anyway

a) old bikes are heavy. Really heavy.

b) the handlebars are duct-taped.

c) I’m badly out of shape.

d) I have a strong suspicion that low gear has gotten a lot lower in the last twenty-odd years.

e) my dust mask means I’m re-breathing my own carbon dioxide.

f) no suspension means the bike is actively trying to bounce me off.

g) the world as we knew it isn’t coming back.

h) the old-school seat chafes parts of my person that really don’t need chafing.

i) masks make it hard to stay hydrated.

j) I’m scared to touch anything, even rocks.

k) ignore it and ride anyway.

Noccaea fendleri

Today I saw a woman walking three dogs, two medium, one small, with their leashes trailing in the dust of the road. I saw a tower of granite standing alone. I saw the sunlight, filtered through the trees, illuminating a carpet of pine needles. I saw people wearing masks and people going barefaced. I gave them all a wide berth. I saw places where the trail is getting distressingly wide from people trying to avoid the ice in winter. I saw a man and a woman with heavy backpacking packs, technical clothes, and an itty bitty dog. I saw Noccaea fendleri, or Fendler’s Pennycress, one of the first flowers of spring.

I saw low, white, wispy clouds moving and changing quickly in a high wind on a still day. I saw a majestic Juniperus scopulorum or Colorado Cedar, standing isolated on a slope, that may be as much as 300 years old. I saw a man basking in the sun, sprawled on some rocks in the middle of the trail. I saw people stepping far to the sides of the trail to allow me plenty of space to get by. I saw myself do the same thing. I saw a family, mother, father, daughter, son, riding their bikes wearing bandanas. I thought they should rob the bank together. I saw a neighbor bringing in their trash and recycling bins. I saw a crow who waited for me to get my camera out and only flew away once I turned it on.

#getoutside

Signing off. Stay safe, and take care of each other.

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