96

lovesick, broke and driftin.

i'm having dreams where i am running on the course now. visions of kamp, post-cool training runs of the past. these are coming to me without invitation now. silent dreams. very vivid. the kind you wake up from and actually try to go back to sleep so you can can go back to that place you were just dreaming about. i'm in love with this journey. the lifestyle. the training. it's hard to stay focused on anything else. 96 more days. kamp v 2.0 cometh in one month. more ammo for the dream world...

flight of the river path

dark. early morning sunrise still trying to make it's way up to be seen. crunchy frost on the grass to my left. river gliding past quietly. intent on making it's escape to the ocean as stealthy as possible. man walking. stumbling. talking, along the bike path. he's muttering about his wife and continues to talk to nobody but the ghosts in his head. 40 ounce bottle of the crooked eye cradled in his arm like a baby. coming upon the wife now. she is pantless down on the bank yelling at the river. she turns to the tree next to her with madness in her eyes and starts yelling that "she has a gun". notice the dog off leash now. dog is running around and gyrating like an epileptic emu. notice the copped over form of a dude squatting in the middle of the paved path. see the steaming accumulation piling up between his feet. pulls up his coveralls in a panic. executes a hand wipe and flick. rubs hands on crunchy, frosted grass. mutters. i dodge the dog. i dodge the pile. i dodge the dog...again. overtake phantom shitter and pass without incident. just when i think i'm in the clear and home free, a nutrea darts off the bank right into my feet and down goes frazier!

quality. hank would turn this 10 miler into song lyrics.

oh quads, where art thou?

it was surreal driving out to goodman creek road today without the two wheeler in the back of the truck. this route is one usually enjoyed at speed. log rides. lots of pumping and skipping to hold speed. something i have been awaiting the snows to release to me all winter long.

but. this is march. the path this spring means two feet get to play out here, not two wheels. 5 hours. one burrito, 7 bottles of fluid and lots of gels, bloks and pretzels later, my quads were shot. my logbook had an additional 30 miles in it and my legs had 8700 feet of climbing and descending. equal opportunity abusers both ways. the views were just breathless. coming to the top of hardesty, the sun was melting the snow and ice off the tree tops of these massive douglas firs and it was raining chunks of debris around me like ash after and eruption. the sun shining through the trees the entire time.

it felt good to be back out here, however you decide to roll.

the trembling in my legs tells me it's gonna be a sheafs stout kinda night. g'day.