As they say at the West Virginia Surf Report,
I have to lower my nuts into the vise for a few hours this morning.
in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this photograph.
You better, it’s art bitch!
A few hours later-
Wow, for the last couple of weeks work has been quiet, and I was lulled into a dream in which I rode my bike, drank beer, played darts, and wrote this, this, whatever it is.
I should have been tipped off by the conspicuous lack of sponsorship money.
Not a dime from Jamis, zero from Guiness. Of course I’m still hopeful that Sam Adam’s Light will want to get in on the act once they realize the extent of the mutation I’m undergoing with their assistance, but for now I have to work.
It seems like work and life are drawing the whole crew out of our manchild fantasy of chains slapping stays, conferencing with coach out on the trail, and answering the questions When do you want to ride? and Where do you want to ride? with the stock answers of Whenever! and
Sasquatch expects me to react with gloom and doom, fire and brimstone, hell and damnation, and I predictably have. I am drawn to the half-empty glass like a moth to a flame. I’m sure that he’s right. The dust will settle, summer routines will evolve, and life in Rideville will be happy once again. Being a single man, who works from home, destined for a lonely pauper’s grave, I have more time to ride, and to wax quixotic about my heroic exploits on the trails of North Florida, yet still, even I have to work.
I don’t mind really, just put a little sugar on the bit please.
See you on the trails, Juancho