As much as I love group rides and racin’… I do love to ride alone. Doesn’t matter if it’s road or mountain, flat or up, fast or not. Ridin’ alone is magical in it’s own way because that’s when nothing else matters.
When nothing else matters, my head is clear. Eventually. Not at first. It takes a bit for the voices to dwindle. Faux conversations dim. Cares don’t need tending. Wheels spinning it all away.
It’s just me.
And my bike.
And my voice.
My real voice, surfaces.
Hey man, how you been?
What can I do for ya?
Well, ya see, it’s like this…
…and I spin…
It’s not deliberate or intentional.
I stop, write them down.
Expand on them. Think on them. Prey on them.
The winners return, ride after ride.
Until one day they are real.