Sunday, May 22, 2011

Born Again and Again and Again

Pining always, not always certain what it is I miss, I acquired a free bike from Naropa’s Bike Fleet.

First, "Antonio’s" gears cracked in motion and the tire flattened over night, then the bike master popped the rear tire on hot pink "Her-cules," the single-shift, age-old, second choice. Out of the misfit bike rubble, beamed sturdy and shock-absorbent, "Mushroom Stew," aka. my new, best friend.

I rode Mushroom Stew into the mountain—praised aquamarine skies, praised air, praised the song of the creek. I rolled my wheels along the creek and was born again.


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