I've been remiss: I actualized my asphalt dream and rode my bike outside last week and haven't posted about it until now . . . my penance? 550 words on the topic. see below.
it began as just a tiny thing, a niggle, nothing more. I sipped my coffee and folded laundry, read a book, changed sheets on the bed. it existed, but nothing about it impeded my activities. at least not for the first hour.
then it grew. I felt compelled to look outside (gray) and check the weather report (27 degrees) and the forecast (high in the low 30's, partly sunny). I read a little more, finished my coffee, paced. what began as a niggle was growing into an itch.
I again checked the weather report (27 degrees) and looked outside (gray). the itch was changing into a magnetic pull toward asphalt, possibly even toward emigration canyon. but it was still cold, still gray. so I read, did more laundry, moved a dust rag across a few surfaces.
then went downstairs to grab my cold-weather biking gear.
sorting through the bin, I pulled out my new-and-not-yet-used booties, my skull cap, a headband. my lightweight full-finger gloves, and my lobster gloves. from my closet I pulled tights, a base layer shirt, and my hot pink/black gore jacket. smartwool socks. an extra wind jacket for the way down (that is, if I decided to go up . . . )
the weather report told me it was now 28, and a peek out the window allowed a slivery glimpse of blue.
john went out to the garage to unearth ruby and dust her off for me; I started getting dressed.
when I hopped on my bike it was 29 degrees and my back pockets were filled with a skull cap, my lobster gloves, and the wind jacket. I clipped in and pedaled (and actually moved forward! whee! those of you who've been spinning indoors will relate to my exhilaration at forward movement), and then turned and pedaled myself back to my front door where I unclipped, went inside and grabbed a neck gator (for the way down, that is, if I decided to go up . . . )
I went up. how could I not? it looked more blue that direction than any other, and I thought it might even be warmer with the elevation gain that would send me up above the inversion.
the road was dry (mostly), the air was clear, the sun shone enough that I could see my shadow for clumps of minutes at a time, my heart was pounding with effort (and joy), and I felt like I was home.
I love riding my bike on asphalt.
when I reached the top of the canyon I layered on everything I'd brought in my back pockets (skull cap, gator, lobster gloves, wind jacket), and rode down little mountain to the little dell reservoir, then over to the locked gate where the road up big mountain is piled with 2 - 3 feet of snow. I turned, looking at the frozen white reservoir and the huge blue sky, and took a few deep breaths. then I climbed back up to the top, and rode my bike home.
these are the times you feel vibrantly alive, connected, at peace with the world, fulfilled, complete.
sometimes the best things begin with the tiniest little niggle which grows into an itch, then a pull, then a demand that leads to a dream come true.