Friday, July 26, 2013

Different days

Back in June at the pass:


Today at the same location:


Got out on a good 34 mile ride as a thunderstorm system was moving out--high humidity, light winds, clouds providing some cover.  I felt like I was back in the Northeast, riding across Maine and New Hampshire, except, of course, for all the dry grass and sagebrush.  Damn it's good to ride!  If I can't climb rocks, this is a very satisfactory replacement.  On my climb to the pass just a couple of days after my hunting trip for trash, I saw the first new beer can and cigarette box--Bud and Marlboro, the number one choices of American litter jerks.  With all the drinking and driving that goes on, it's a wonder we aren't dying and killing at a much higher rate on US roads and highways.  I think about that sometimes when I'm out riding, but I can't let it keep me down and off the bike.  I refuse to live that way.  Besides, perception is not reality, and, for the most part, smart, aware cyclists are safer than pedestrians in cities or car drivers generally.  Bright clothes, a mirror, and good road sense go a long way to making each outing reasonably safe.  Perfectly safe?  No.  You want perfectly safe?  Stay on the couch, wrapped in foam, and die an early death of cancer, heart disease, and diabetes.  Safety is so over-rated in this hyper-regulated world.  Yell "Safety!" and armies of twittering morons will rush to constrain your freedoms.  We shouldn't be stupid, but straining for a risk-free life is straining for death, if you ask me.  Death of the soul, of the spirit, of what it means to be alive.  Basically, I've got nothing against video games, but my adventures can't be all virtual.  My thing is REAL reality, true risk, true challenge, actual, tangible rewards.  As my good old dad used to say, "Moderation in all things, including moderation."

Another shot from the road:

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