Today the slowly rising sun revealed rain. Rain which washes away the snow. Snow which covered trails not yet ready to hibernate. All of this has me asking "what the hell man?". I ask that " whom it may concern" weather it be a God of some kind, Mother nature or some wizard who controls weather patterns hidden behind a curtain make up their mind and choose a season. Let it be winter or summer. These transitional months are ridiculous and as my mathematical calculations have revealed, unnecessary. My math, it should be stated, has no real formula, chalk board full of numbers or validity. In reality I am only writing the words"my math" for argumentative purposes only. None the less I stand by my statement.
By all accounts I should be happy, I had a long and full riding season. The first trail ride was had in May and the season was filled with riding my favorite local trails and finding some new ones abroad. Riding in Calabogie, Pennsylvania, New York and northern Ontario. Jumps were jumped, logs and ladder bridges ridden, down hills conquered at break neck speeds and climbs mountain goats are to timid to attempt ascended, all might I add on a single speed. Is there any other speed? Despite all of this I am left wanting more. Greedy? Obsessed? or suffering from mad cow? What ever the cause I am not ready to let the trails rest. I have gone as far as talking myself into a state of understanding. Seasons change, so on and so forth. The natural course and more green redirect such as that. I just don't believe myself. I have even taken the drastic step of cleaning the bikes, new chains, tires, cables all bestowed upon them. The magical, mythical things which comprise a bike and breath life into it. They now sit high above us in our living room, perched at a height reserved only for Gods. They sit there, looking down on me with judgement and a look of abandonment. Yes there is skiing, snowshoeing and all things cold, but riding is the catalyst of my soul. Yes, indoor bike parks will be visited, giving me a fix, like a junkie. The fact remains that like that junkie I too have an addiction. However no support groups will be sought or court ordered. Instead I will seek to satisfy myself through daily visits to Pink Bike, frequent visites to Bike shops and alone time with Dirt Rag. Note to self, buy more Kleenex and lotion. I have choosen instead to pray.
" To whom it may concern or please. Bring a swift end to winter or if it pleases thee a rapid increase in global warming your call. While your at it, fire and brimstone on all land managers and those who hold the belief that trails are reserved for hikers and horses. If this is your will give me no sign and rid the world of Justin Bieber, Celine Dion and watery beer. In some name we pray. "
Now I wait. It might take a bit it does have to go to space and back, a bit like the Internet I suppose.
Peace and love and fast flowy dreams.