mountain biking

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mountain biking

April 14, 2002 Sunday

The Ride Back Home

It's way past midnight on a Sunday. I'd been at the office the entire weekend from sunrise to past midnight…not working, but reading, coding, sorting out things and updating TheLoneRider site. Altogether, it was a typical weekend. My creative juices dried up. Exhausted, I was embarking to go home. The ride back home is always pleasant. Mostly, just me, my bike, handlebar lights, the pitch-black night, the road and nothing else…stealthily cutting through the midnight air with near freezing wind in my face. That night was unusual. There was a slight hail and I could feel it pelting my helmet. I became part of the poetry the night.

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