More than anything riding solo in the woods, in the dark, separates the hard core, from people who ride bikes. For me it all started last year when the impending San Felasco Eco Tour forced desire to overcome fear. Like most things I get into, I tipped toed in. I continued extending my comfort zone until it was the norm. Last night was my first solo of the season. I headed out to the levy on Caddy and it felt like playing an old tune by memory. A few verses, a couple of choruses and the relief of the bridge. You count the bars and settle into the rhythm, falling back on chops you thought you had forgotten.
Tonight Big Jim Slade and I headed out as a duo. The trail seems tamer with a partner and we went much farther than we would have alone. We talked story all the way out and all the way back. We saw green eyes of spiders, and the amber eyes of gators. We ran into a small battalion of the Higher Ground crew, and then headed back into Tom Brown for the encore.
As Jim loaded up, a band echoed in a distant warehouse. I felt the itch of a recovering addict, and wondered aloud if they had any songs. The old habits die hard. I rode over to get a better listen and like a bad joke, the music was gone. I laughed at the irony, and once again was riding solo, back home in the dark. All great gigs end the same: with a late ride home alone.
Lead kindly light
Lead thou me on.....
W.B.Z.N.
