Monday, January 19, 2015

Falling down. Getting up.




On a regular basis, I purposefully enter the woods to find myself lost. It's a fact, you have to be lost before you can be found. 

A couple weeks ago, while getting myself lost, I quickly discovered how ill-prepared I was for the intended expedition. The ground was frozen and I had the wrong tires on the bike with entirely too much air. I went down three times. The first two falls were relatively harmless. The third fall harbored a greater level of intensity. It caught my attention. In fact, there was enough intensity involved that I took inventory. 

After testing the larger pieces of my body to determine if I remained intact and was working properly, I laid back down. I was lost. It was beautiful. 

Eventually, I started talking to Me: "What in Hell do you think you're doing...riding a bike in the middle of a 250 acre forest...alone? Seriously, you're closer to 50 than 47!" 

Then, Me says to I: "Relax, I'm out here to fall down. You can't pick yourself up until you've been summarily knocked to the ground." 

End of conversation. Get lost.



Saturday, January 10, 2015

Good things come in threes.



AMI, FL, USA - Three girls: Helen, Margaret, Lucy

Good things come in threes. True. But we also hear that bad things come in threes. Again, true. For future reference please note that bad news is readily available and nearby when a person is looking for and expecting it! 

The same can be said for good news or good fortune. How many times have you heard Hard Luck Charlie exclaim, "Good luck follows (insert a name) around like a lost puppy! He wakes up and Fortune has coffee brewed and waiting on his front porch." 

Good things happen to those who are looking for it. One, two, three. Ready, set, go! 

So what's with the number 3? No idea, all I have is a cool picture of three girls on a beach. 


Sunday, January 4, 2015

The Speed of Life

"There is more to life than simply increasing its speed."
-Mahatma Gandhi


I pedaled by this 'twice-blasted road closed sign' at about 20mph, on Friday, January 2. The day was brisk at 36 degrees Fahrenheit, yet it wasn't cold. Cloudy but not grey. I was making good time on a planned 35 mile shake-down on the Domane, and a shake-down of myself after spending much of December on rollers.

Most of my surroundings on this Midwestern January day had assumed the color of winter, earthy and largely brown. Throw an orange sign in on that back drop and it tends to jump...if you're paying attention. I was paying attention. But I was making good time! Still the urge to capture an image of what had just caught my eye was strong. I rode on. Making good time.

At about a half-mile 'post sign' I got on the brakes, stood up and turned around. Why was I so intrigued with a road closed sign where there was no road?! Mounted to a fence post at the gated entrance of a picked corn field was a sign that had in fact been shot twice with something much heavier than a .22.

I took the picture, got back on my bike and continued doing what I was doing. I was happy. Oddly, satisfied. Five minutes of down time didn't cause me to miss my favorite TV show (don't have one), show up late for dinner (I was making dinner), or ruin my ride in any way. It actually added value to my ride. I was happy.