it was inevitable.
I knew it would happen, and I knew it would happen soon.
on wednesday I saw signs that it was imminent.
yet still, today, my heart broke.
on wednesday the road had been cleaned, swept, the hillsides pushed back, all of the tumbled-down rocks cleared from the asphalt. no snow remained, just the dusty red scrapings of rock. the twigs and branches and gravel were all gone, the hardtop clean and ready for, sigh, vehicles.
yes, the gate is open.
today I rode three miles up past the open gate, and was passed by eight vehicles.
the good news is this: I no longer have to slow down as I approach the gate, ride off the side of the road onto the squirrelly gravel and rock, and ride through that little muddy puddle that collects after each rain, just to go around the gate.
let's see, the other good things are . . .
okay, I tried. there is really nothing else good about the gate being open.
it's just forward movement, notice that summer will eventually arrive, a sign that nothing is ever static. now I just get to look forward to that autumn day when the air is cold and the skies heavy when the yellow metal gate will once again be pulled shut and locked at the bottom of the road up big mountain. and enjoy all of the beautiful, warm, clear days between now and that inevitable november day.