Yesterday and the day before I found that joy from the early days. The equipment is a little better the skill or as the youngsters say "my mad skillez was poppin" or whatever they say, the body older and the ride home is not the same, I'm not sure if I'm Endicott or Kid Creole or most likely some mutated combination. I slithered over the semi-compressed snow.It's not really snow any more, ice flakes,dirt, it's been there for some time. The mayor is a senator now and whose gonna be acting mayor has turned into a pissing match. While the cats are away some mice play and some places get plowed too soon and others too late. The homemade studs were good in most things but they sucked in the brown crap over ice and they didn't last long. That's where the tires I use now really justify the price . Good to do the winter dance It has that kind of feel to it that sort of rhythm to it. That sort of flow. If that makes any sense, I'm tired, I hurt, I've had a couple but it's all good. My true love sleeps upstairs and my kitty has me pinned to this couch. The bike seat is always a first class seat.
Feel the pavement when you bounce from it, hear the engine of a car roaring behind you, answer the static coming from your two-way, embrace the corner of the box that craves your spine while you´re carrying it in your bag, taste the cold and yet sweet taste of beer when it sparkles in your mouth.