from Freehub Magazine
26 degrees, whore frost, and frozen ferns. I pull into a muddy parking spot at work after a cold ride, followed by a 45 minute commute, I shift my truck into park and a sudden wave of calm overcomes me. All of the day comes flooding back into my head in that one instant. That corner, the icy berm I slid out of, that jump I finally cleared, and a smile washes over my face. The day has left me feeling so suddenly fulfilled and content knowing that nothing else matters, because that happened.
Tomorrow I will ride again. It’s more of my brain’s demand than my own choice really, at least that’s how it feels, along with a strong desire to do better than I did yesterday. But for now it’s time to focus on work.
It’s a slow night at the restaurant and with more time to reflect back on my day, I decide maybe I should have hit that jump again, yeah was that pinot noir or pinot gris? Would I be able to just go back and do it again tomorrow? I must do it again.
On this particular bone chillingly frigid fall day, the leaves were plentiful and flattened by frost. My memories are still fresh, painted orange and yellow, with rich brown dirt covered in roots, tangled, like Medusa’s hair. Finding the trail in this cluttered abyss was half the battle. Yes, today was worth the battle.
The combination of my years biking has been a mixed bag of best days ever, close calls, and total biffs to say the least. This last year has been no exception with plenty of ups and downs between injury, life, and racing. I suppose it’s ironic, how it’s that simple feeling of riding a bike gives me a sense of balance again. In the years to come that laundry list of goals and dreams may or may not materialize, but whatever happens I relish in knowing I have felt such deep passion for something that I love so much. Thank you to all those who support my passion.