Moving through the hills as if on a rail. Glancing left and right at the sights, I’m on an amusement ride where the landscape reveals fragments of other lives. Waiting for master — The dog sits in the corner of the yard, near a stop sign where I unclip from the pedals. When I offer [...]
Posts Tagged ‘bike’
Signs of life
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, Indiana on February 10, 2009 |
Out of place
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, Cycling, recipe, road bike on February 9, 2009 |
Half a package of saltines lies beside the road. The open end has been neatly closed, as if someone set down the crackers, intending to come back. Except the package is on the ground in the middle of nowhere. It’s one of those odd sights seen from the saddle on any given ride. Crackers are [...]
Base building
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, Cycling, Relationships, road bike, Trainer on January 20, 2009 |
A first time. And, a day lived once before. We sit side-by-side, turning cranks but going nowhere, kept indoors by low temperatures, bone-chilling wind, and wet pavement frosted with sand. Even Westwood dissuades us with its layer of ice and frozen ruts concealed under a cover of snow. So we turn our energy loose inside [...]
What about Bob?
Posted in Relationships, road bike, Trainer, tagged bicycle, bike, Indiana, Relationships, road bike, Trainer on January 16, 2009 |
He said to call, that he had some important news. I’m thinking about that phone call. In the scant rest that comes between sets. During the heart of repetitions, when the mind drifts to a place where frustration turns the cranks. Until then, I had stopped returning his calls. Seeing his number of the caller [...]
Pushed by the coming cold
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, Indiana, Knightstown, RAIN, road bike, U.S. 40 on January 12, 2009 |
Riding through winter. Riding in front of it. U.S. 40 is relatively flat across my part of the state, and well maintained. On winter days when the Greensboro Pike remains littered with sand from county highway trucks, I haul my bike to Knightstown for an out-and-back trek down the old National Highway. Today’s first leg [...]
The statement surprises me. “Hearing a coyote is much more common than seeing one,” according to Wikipedia. This one doesn’t make a sound. It lies at the base of a tree on a rural road, so perfectly positioned it appears to have been placed here. The road is rough, the day is cold, and I’m [...]
Seeing Blue
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, Big Blue River, bike, Cycling, Indiana, road bike on January 3, 2009 |
A flock climbs from shadows, like mist rising above the river. Ducks arch over barren trees, circle above the Big Blue, and move away from the bridge where I stand. Staring into the empty spot they leave in the sky, I notice the half moon for the first time. The river, the ducks, the moon. [...]
The people in the field
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, road bike on January 2, 2009 |
They walk in the cold, heads down, edging forward. Old and young. Corn stubble and the grassy bank of a drainage ditch at their feet. The closest town more than a mile away. We see them as we approach. A few of the dozen or so people look up. Most continue their search. One older [...]
Riding out the year
Posted in Mountain Bike, road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, Mountain Bike, mtb, road bike, Westwood Park on December 31, 2008 |
The day dims. That’s how the post began. Black ink on a yellow notepad. A blog entry never finished. It’s been that way a lot lately. I’ve been riding, but not writing. Miles alone in the solitude of Westwood Park, the bitter cold accentuating the emptiness of a winter woods. And, a most unusual road [...]
Hatred on election day
Posted in road bike, tagged bicycle, bike, Indiana on November 4, 2008 |
The hand-lettered signs make me wonder. Nailed to a tree, one claims, ”Barack Hussien Obama, AKA: The Messiah, Wants Your Money, The Crack Heads Need Welfare.” Taped to a white vinyl fence, another states, “Barack Hussien Obama Is A Freedom Hating Muslim Who Wants To Turn Us Into France.” On wire posts stuck in the ground, [...]
