Sunday, May 17, 2009

oh, the water

the wasatch front had one of its first completely stunning days, today, and I was one of the lucky ones who was able to play in it.
it was an absolutely perfect day for a ride up a canyon.
a big canyon.
a long canyon.
with some good steep sections.

it was my first ride up big cottonwood canyon this season, and I am quite pleased to announce that I survived. I had to tweak my mindset going into it --- you know how important I believe mindset to be --- that I would get to the top best by not stressing about how long it was taking me to get there.
which is the way I proceeded, and what kept me going even when I didn't want to be. which would be the last 3 miles or so. yikes, it just keeps climbing and climbing and climbing, and then --- thank you, greatly, God --- it ends. the rounded green roof I can see from a point about 50 yards away is a shining beacon that greets me and lets me know I made it. of course, those last 50 yards are among the steepest of the entire canyon, and my legs always let me know it.

but enough about the ride: what I want most to write about is the water.
oh, the water.
the creek is crashing and booming, flinging water skyward as it bounces over rocks and boulders. the water is clear and white with froth, energized by the influx of millions of gallons of water seeping from the rocky hillsides and soggy crevices that line the canyon walls. it is mighty, it is proud, and it is something I could sit and watch for hours.
well, at least 10 minutes.

oh, the water.
van morrison sings a song (it stoned me) that kept flowing through my mind today as I rode alongside this powerful creek. I know I've been on a lyrics kick lately, but in all honesty, music and lyrics are almost always floating and circulating and streaming through my mind.
today I heard van's voice, over and over, as he sang while my legs went round and round and round:

oh, the water,
oh, the water,
oh, the water,
get it myself from the mountain stream.

it's difficult to believe anything could be wrong in a world that holds big cottonwood canyon in the palm of its hand.

No comments: