Monthly Archives: July 2011

The Pisgah Surprise

That’s what I call this photograph, The Pisgah Surprise. If you are new here at the circus, you may not know about the events that occurred in the Pisgah National Forest a few years back. My frenemy Mystery, the once untameable stallion, and I spent a cold night without food, drink, shelter, nor the comforting words of a good friend. We let the rivalry get a little out of hand with the, “I’m not done riding if you’re not done riding” gambit. We ran out of day and hunkered like animals in the dark, burning spare inner-tubes and green rhododendrons to stay warm.

The short version is that we survived, as evidenced by the 1,048 blog posts I have written since that day. The picture you see above documents the single act of unchecked aggression during our 24 hour survival epic.

In a ruse only a true sociopath could muster, he asked me to pose for a photo to record our endurance, our courage, and our steadfast loyalty. Asleep on my feet I stood tall and waited for him to hit the button and race the timer to get in the photo.

The next thing I remember is waking up in the dirt, for the second time that twilit morning.

If you will focus closely on the details in this photo you can see the blur of white- his Jamis Dakar in motion after connecting the rear wheel with the point of my chin. You will see the little roll of jiggly fat of my exposed midriff rippling with the shockwave of impact. You will see my hands thrown up in a lazy defense, and you will see my beloved red Jamis Dragon rattling to the ground at my feet.

We are returning to Pisgah this weekend, to finish what he started.

-Juancho

Save the Cambium

Pages of verse ran through my mind all weekend, all of it superior to whatever I manage to lay down here this morning. Like a waiter lost deep in the weeds, I have failed to keep up. It is too late to go back and capture the events of Friday afternoon, the slimy ride under the central Florida sun, the night on the town, the meeting of an icon.

Saturday, I came down out of the stands and got into the tree-climbing game. A year ago, even before the Accident of Ultimate Clarity, I was not able to move my body up a rope using a series of crunching maneuvers. This time, only the concern of how to get down slowed my progress. A lifetime spent beneath the shade of giant Live Oak trees and only now do I see them as the unknown frontier. Apologies to the Tour de France, sorry I missed the opening stage.

Sunday, smug with accomplishment, I rode solo around this steamy town. I rode through FAMU and FSU, Frenchtown, and into the old neighborhoods. I visited 5 of my past residences and took in all the years spent in Tallahassee, doing pretty much what I do now. I am wearing a groove in this town, playing that same favorite song over and over until I know every scratch and skip by heart as well as the lyrics and tune. I rode into the trails and the ground passed so easily beneath me. I felt like a bear dancing on a ball.

Monday morning, an encore performance, out into the forest for 4 hours of vision questing, as we moved constantly through the waves of heat, the smilax vines, and the sand. This is all so new to me again, this confidence that my body can get me in and out of adventures. Thanks to my swollen Achilles for reminding me to pace myself, slow it down, grab for those verses before they are all forgotten.

-Juancho

Juancho vs. Dogboy (advantage-Dogboy)

Is Dogboy getting kinder or is Juancho getting faster? That’s the question one has to ask himself when he finishes a late afternoon run through the east-side Weems loop and he feels pretty good. Let’s not get carried away. I will concede that separation occurred a few times, always when I optimistically shifted down from my big ring. This would have the effect of launching the Dogboy from a cannon so quickly did the daylight appear between us. We are also friends, so to drop me completely would be awkward. Yet still, under these same circumstances I have come home from a ride with him so crushed as to need crutches to get to the bathroom, where I would then draw a warm bubble bath and let the running water cover the sound of my quiet sobbing. I suggest we split the difference and answer “both.”

The goal today is to move south as soon as possible to ride with Pa Ingalls and the Micanopy Madman at the Powerlines in G’ville. After that it is on to The American Dream Art Show (that’s a link.) I am going to achieve a full vacation mindset in under 24 hours.

Bloggy blog blog. Bloggity, bloggity, blog.

Got big plans?

Juancho