Sitting in the van watching the rain pour down, neither Squatch nor I were too happy to see a grim Joey B roll up to the Munson parking lot on his bike. Standing out there in the rain, shaking his head at us, we pretended we didn’t understand his get on your bikes gestures so we shrugged and waved and called out hey bro it’s raining! through the tiniest crack of the window.
Wisely, he slid open the bay door and joined us, slopping sweat and rainwater into the velour of my ’98 Safari. Get out of this car and get on your bikes he ordered, as we filibustered retorts of hey man, you watch the tour today? Crazy huh? He was having none of it, so we grimly decamped the vehicle and suited up for a grind.
The guy parked next to us made his move at the same time, remarking something like Might as well get this suckfest over with, and after a few I hear that brothers! our crew pointed due south for Twilight where we enjoyed a sandy and grit-filled spin through the carpet of ferns and pines, Joey a few hundred yard ahead most of the way while Squatch and I rode 2007 style chattering and clucking like hens. The wet crust of sand cracking as we rode over it, the grit splattering up shins and into every crease on the bike, the pace just fast enough, yet not really fast at all.
Back at the van, with the rain relenting, Joey B asserted his prowess and passed on the free ride home, pedaling off up the St. Marks Trail to town. Squatch and I what’s upped? the guy next to us, also just wrapping up his ride.
Ryan, recently back from Afghanistan, glad to be done with his service, done with school and casting about for what comes next. Ride your bike and avoid all responsibility I thought and said out loud. This younger generation though, cursed with ambition and purpose, he was leaning more towards finding work.
Bigringcircus, google it I told him. It’s the perfect place to start this next phase of your life.
I hope he finds this, and lets us drag him around the woods until he knows what’s next.