I have been jumping off the pavement onto the dirt trail whenever I feel it or find it. I love the different way my body gets to play. The path is narrower, hazards of various sizes loom, control is paramount. Animal instincts seep out, I crouch, practically sniffing the air, feeling the edge of the speed I need to hold. I banish thoughts of torn trousers and skinned palms sure to occur if I head on the bolder mid-path ahead. Branches hang so low from overgrown trees that I need to duck nearly below my handlebars. Or fall off the hill the trail is perched precariously on the edge of. My smile is broad but tight as I maneuver. I will master you.
Then comes a downhill rush, the bump up to pavement and civility reigns, I can straighten my scarf, unclench.
The spring flowers are still out in abundance, the cornflowers, yarrow, mustard... I think of impressionists and small dabs of color, the sky is dazzling in blues and puffy to dense clouds. The river rush is full still, green with brush and trees clinging to the drown shore in its wake.
And on I roll. My body is finding the perfect rhythm for the ride today, Steady, a push that burns the thighs but is comfortable. My mood moves towards giddy as the first bike is passed. On slightly rolling hills, the wind blowing my hair back; a glisten forms as exertion finds its way to the surface of my skin.
From the opposite direction comes a really fast one: handsome, dark, muscular, and tall at that. Dressed in all the gear- jersey, shorts, shoes, all in yellow and red. I would have loved to turn and give chase, just for the thrill, except he was too fast. Clearly. I took note, tossed a smile and filed that as inspiration as the smile was returned. Soon my pretty, soon.
Round the next bend, up ahead, three teenage boys have come from a side road onto my path. The need to stalk them, pass them increases my pace. My breathing still steady, deeper, I begin to narrow the gap. Clearly the group has a "Stand By Me" hierarchy and the meander is clear as they decide what to do. But their pace is increasing.
At this point I hang back a touch holding their pace, gaining my full breath. If I increase to a passing pace, how much faster can I hold for how long. I hate to pass only to find the pace too quick and they retake me on the next bend.
The sun is warm, not hot. I am feeling good, if not hot! I took the bait and off I went. We were a fifty or so yards apart. I was gaining ground, even though it took some yardage. Just when I was within a strike, 50 feet or so, all three veered to the right, off the pavement and down a very steep trail towards the river.
The first down was fearless, fast, full speed. The second, bigger, took a second before the plunge, but the hesitation resulted is a slight skid as he tried to control his fear. Third stopped at the top completely arrested for seconds as he then eased off the road and slowly crept down the steepness and then off to the trail.
I did not give chase, though it occurred to me, rather briefly. I could see them down there. The first, a wiry kid with a strawberry complexion, was still moving fast. as the others leveled off and took up the chase. I was still on the road and pushed it hard. I had seen the path before from above but had just now discovered its access point. Just as I rounded the bend that the dirt trail cuts across, he was jumping up from the trail onto the pavement. A sideways slide to stop showed a huge grin, a deep gulp of air and a look back to see the stragglers still far off.
"Good job son" is all I can muster and as his grin increases, a labored "Thanks" gasps out. I file that grin away also as inspiration.
Off I roll to my destination, faster. I will take that trail too. I swear.
Thursday, July 1: ramblings.
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