Saturday, April 18, 2009

A Poetic Interlude

In another of my blogs I am attempting to keep up with a poem-a-day as put forth by Poetic Asides. Of course, a couple of the poems ended up being bicycle related, and rather than force you to wade through a half-months verbosity, I thought I'd just drop them here, and give myself an excuse to update.
Now, these poems are based on "prompts;" subject tidbits. This one was a result of the prompt "hobby"...
the view is endless
the air thin
ravens circle doing tricks
as deer watch through
thick rows of trees
tracks cross the trail
several sets
all moving toward
the stream I crossed
sunlight fills me
after dappled canyons
of aspen and pine
and I breathe
deeply of the mountain air
before dropping off the
other side
to dance my bicycle
through the trees

This one was from the prompt "clean"...
tight line, steep approach
loose rock, a root, shift
don't touch the gears
jerk left, slip, recover
mad scramble, more roots
shale drift, not as steep
low branch
cactus reaches, hungry
pull up
push down
burst through the claws
before the wall, the lip
pedal, timing, approach
yank, pedal, weight, lunge
crest, hold, grin
cleaned it

So there you have it. Save your flames, I am certainly my own worst critic.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Fixed Gear Corruption

Yes, it's true, I'm actually posting something. And yes, it's true, fixed gear bicycles have corrupted me.
Ask anyone, I used to be the epitome of bicycle manners. I obeyed the traffic laws better than most drivers. I always waited for lights, kept to my lane, signaled and made legal turns. I didn't mind stopping, putting a foot down, scanning the car next to me for interesting occurrences.
Then one day I'm waiting, realizing my trackstand skills are not up to par, and run the red through an empty intersection. I found myself going the wrong way in traffic, cutting corners and running more lights, riding through pedestrian precincts...
I had basically become the rider I had always shaken my head at, cursed for making it bad for all of us.
And I remembered how much fun it was to take the street for my own purposes. Subversive purposes.

I'm still a generally respectful rider. More often than not I'll follow the spirit, if not the letter, of the law. But sometimes I have to follow the path less traveled. Against the arrows.

and for those still counting... over 15 months.