Monday, December 28, 2009

Dust, dust and more dust.

For Bill.

Are your observations facts? Is your mind, your brain and is your brain, a biological machine?

Do you have to go somewhere to be somewhere?

The road up wound around like a dusty cartoon dollop of whipped cream. Me, slowly breathing while temperature fluctuations from wind and sun, clouds and rising elevation, blah blah blah. Such a lovely day.

My computer and phone were packed away in a saddlebag. I hadn’t turned either of them on for three days. I was the calmest I’ve ever been in my entire life.

A decision: I wasn’t moving; the earth beneath me was moving! You can accelerate or turn around but you’re a silver ball on a wooden toy and the ground is moving - you are staying in the

exact

same

place.

Well, wait a second: it does matter if you pull the trigger or if you let the man on the beach walk away.

Enough thinking for one day, I decided. The motel was about a hundred and twenty miles behind me and the next one was probably another three hundred ahead but the more important task of riding up the mountain demanded my focus.

Leather seat, rubber wheels, chrome and the dust on the side of the road… (I bought gas two states ago and spent about six bucks on it – everyone should travel this way)

And on and on to the top. What will I find when I get there? Probably exactly what you think: a beautiful view, a quiet moment and a road back down again. Perfect. That’s all I want. Find a mountain, ride to the top of it, and look around. Ride down and repeat.

Do you have to go somewhere to be somewhere?

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