remember that this world was once covered in snow

now, it is not.

welcome to three

I can

Tell it’s

Summer

From the

Size of

The bugs that fly

Through my window

Flying through my window…

Ice Hill starts moderate then after a big left sweeper, it fills in with tree roots and steepness. This steep section may be a challenge in the second chain ring. It may be wise to come charging into Ice Hill in something like 3-5, fall to 2-5 when you must, then begin your fight at 1-5.

The crest will come, chase the end of the grade, chase it back into the middle chain ring. There will be a narrow forested downhill, then fast, open, rocky.

And it feels

Just like

The ground

Trapped in another way

Just still in the ground

Blue Sky is a power dance. I have to warn you, I have to promise you this; Blue Sky, it is a power dance. Lines that others may not see will present themselves to you. If you ask. If you lead, she will follow. Climb for a bit in this dance, then explode at the level. The forest thickens and the dance becomes intricate, so you must be quick and patient. Then she will ask power of you again. Why sell your soul on Ice Hill when you can dance on Blue Sky? Match what Ice Hill asks of you, be ready for what Blue Sky gives.

so you

can’t hold

a star

in your

hand though

at least you

can hold on to

another plan

D4. A series of switchbacks will try to hurt your will. Play. It won’t last. A confession, dear reader; all of this is from the perspective of relative ease, not a relentless hell push, and that is precisely the point.

We have all the time in the word

To get it right

We have all the love in the world

To set alight

Just look up

Elk Meadow; a fast, pretty, and smooth, wide single track for the most part, aptly named.

Chainsaw and Flume; Fast, working tightly through trees. You should know this feel by now. Rushing is a trick. Patience. Single-Mindedness. There is a ‘bring it home” feeling that starts to grow here.

Creekside: Challenging because it is fast. Sharp corners and technicals that surprise you. There are smooth lines hiding in this, but you will have to contest fatigue and the urge to finish to find them. If you have done this day right, your work has already been done. Find yourself a point on the active edge, not the resting edge, of balance.

You will finish

You will walk through the gates at the end.

They will scan your number plate and record your performance. You will have done your job, the clock will have done his.

You will be at the edge of forest, a road, and a crowded campground. All bathed in sun. Desolate as I write this, under a half moon, the landscape then will be like a city, full of volunteers, your competitors, your friends, all one and the same. There will be laughter, sounds of exhaustion. I have to promise you this; there will be smiles.

remember, this world was once covered in snow 

lyrics by:

Silversun Pickups

The Frames

pictures

~fiction, short story~

the first thing is the sound of a car approaching at highway speed.

I open my eyes, the world is horizontal. A close-up view of a broken and worn white paint stripe. Gravel and asphalt. The car is a blur of blue and chrome as it speeds by, and it kicks up cubes of broken safety glass on the highway. The wind draft of its speed passes over my face.

This can't be good. How did I get here?

I can feel the sun on the left of my face, the earth on the right. I am to hot and to cold at the same time. I am not thinking straight. How did I get here? What kind of shape am I in? Am I just a head on the side of this highway? Scores of other unpleasant thoughts pass through me.

Another car approaches, but this one stops. Doors open and people get out, I hear something said like “my god…”  I have to get up. I try. Nothing happens.

But I can feel the shape of the desire to get up, and desire is not there yet.

And just like that, it’s easy to know; every time I have tried to move something, to do something, there is the mechanical connection of muscle and nerves, and there is the desire to have it done. Everything. Every motion. Maybe even the beat of my heart.

If I could just get a handle on that, the desire to get up, off this highway, out of this… bad predicament...

But the desire won’t budge.

I lie there, thinking of the thing I could feel the shape of so clearly.

desire

Is it my job to move it? Or it’s job to move me?