Night Ride on Deck

My first time back on two wheels last night - after an 11 day hiatus - was so nondescript that I'm going to write two paragraphs about it. And an extra one about nothing just because.

On the way up I was steady, but not fast. Hot and then cold, black and then white, Katy Perry and then Steve Perry. In other words - kinda all over the place. Coming back down, I found myself looking too far ahead down the trail, thinking I was seeing a dog, an elk, a sea monkey, John Lennon - whatever....it was weird, almost like I was sure I was going to run into something. So I shut my brain down and just let it fly off the powerline drop and sure as shit about 100 feet after the drop was a scared-as-can-be runner who wan't too enthused about my speed. So sorry. Not really. I'm having too much fun Mr. skinny legs grumpy face.

There's six discernable groups in Flagstaff. The cyclists, the runners, the climbers, the Yoga peeps, the students, and everyone else on the east side of town. I lump the frisbee golfers in with everyone else because, well, it's frisbee afterall. The cyclists are great, but loaded with cliques. The runners are elite-level out of towners training in high elevation. None of them live here long, or weigh more than 130 pounds - much less talk to you because they are on a mission to make the Olympics. The climbers supply the coffee shops with baristas, and the restaurants with servers. The students clog the cheap restaurants and work retail. The yoga peeps flow in and out of each group, as they should since they are blessed with dharmic rhaomnic grace. I totally made up the word rhaomnic but it fits.

Anyway, past Mr. skinny legs grumpy face and into my garage. Wasn't a great ride, wasn't bad either, but as always - it was fun. The lights are charged for a night ride tonight. Can't wait.