I had the good intention of posting this about two weeks ago after returning from the Elkhorn Classic, a fun little stage race in the hidden gem of a mountain town called, Baker City. However, I've been a bit blah, expired, flat, deflated, basically combine all that in a blender and drink it with straw extracted from the trash receptacle of your local waffle house. Don't have a waffle house? Well, if your ever traveling through Arizona in the twilight hours, sleep deprived and craving the nastiest resemblance to food that could possible be concocted, then the waffle house is your place. Oh, I forgot to tell you "keep a soft spot in your heart for that sweet little 65 year old meth head," she's missing most of her front teeth. The remaining teeth, clinging tenaciously to their sockets, resemble craters of the moon dripping with sulfuric acid. She actually was cute, in a very poor representation of humanity sort of way. Quite sad but if you can imagine all that, then you know how I feel.
Now that I've "been" home from the elkhorn classic for a couple weeks and I'm done trudging through the blah-ness, I have finished the chore of revising and updating this post to reflect my current state while still portraying the way I previously felt. Make sense? I didn't thinks so.......Any rateI was falling like an unripened, worm infested apple, but now that little rotten apple is being transformed into fresh pressed apple cider......In the not so distant past, when I was a falling apple I felt gravity ripping at my skin beckoning my soul into the dismal puddle of daily routine. Collecting pieces of my scattered life, like a blind man searching for fire ants, I drug my way out of the bi-polar wave that is bike racing. I know I keep jumping from past to present tense, but who cares, if its not entertaining then don't read it. The ups and downs have been about as graceful as a mad cow riding a skate board. Galloping like a four legged rocket up an imposing mountain pass, the bovine drags its voluminous balls tearing off chunks of skin and flesh as they're caught in the cracks and crevices of the rough road of life. Eventually after vicious moments of intense focus and excruciating effort a moment of weightlessness is attained. The summit......whew....I worked so hard.......concentrated and focused with all my might. In this fickle moment gravity is momentarily subdued, and consequently my skin is forever lost. Shortly after the endorphins start to fade, a peaceful reflection begins......and then.....the cow dives, nose first, picking his way down a pot hole and gravel strewn descent. Exponentially gaining speed, blind folded with one hoof tied to its tail, it shrieks as its orderly single focus mind is strewn into scattered mosaic of lost reality.
If you made it through that then maybe you have an insight as to what its like to be a cat one bike racer or maybe you just think I'm a bit strange.
In in effort to please my most diligent and faithful Reader, (I won't mention his name, however, he frequently comments on my posts), I'd like to give a big fat.....................
Bo0!ya!..........I care about the needs of each and every one of you, some more than others. I also understand some of yall are lexicographically impaired and visually inept. You have demanded more imagery of the photographic sort. From here forward I hope to satiate the thirst of your fledgling cerebral synapse's and saturate the theater of your imagination, assuaging your lacking inability to piece together the puzzles of my run on sentences. Where I fail to paint a clear picture, I hope with the most sanguine of intentions that my photographs pacify your needs.
Woody.........that little bit is dedicated with love to you.
I want a picture. I don't care what it is.
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