There were yellow leaves on the lawn today and the weather was so beautiful - forecasted to be beautiful for the next week in fact - and I felt this sense of urgency (summersummersummer, get out in it right now!) and also grief (oh my god it's almost over, how can that be?!).
So I decided to do a very summery activity: wash my car in the driveway. But it ended up going way beyond just a wash. Like many tasks I embark upon, it quickly became an OCD quest for perfection - not one spot or streak left. Then when the outside was done I decided to do the inside - Armor All, leather conditioner, vacuum - even shined the tires. Two hours later it gleamed like the top of the friggin Chrysler Building.
Next stop on the grease monkey tour - putting my bike back together. To travel to Juneau and back for the triathlon meant taking my bicycle apart to fit into a box, so up it went on a table in the garage to be reassembled. My fingers turned black and greasy in the process, but I feel super cool knowing how to put that baby together. Which came in handy because later...
...I was nearly home after a gorgeous 20 mile ride today - to the ocean and back - when my chain came off, so I had to do a little mechanical duty right there on the trail, again getting all dirty and greasy. But yeah, I totally fixed it.
On the ride today I went past a number of parks that were filled with people barbecuing, hanging out. There were lots of kids out playing, of course, and I especially noticed how little ones are completely oblivious to their surroundings. I don't mean that critically like they should be more aware, I mean it quite literally - kids under maybe 7-8 truly do not have a sense of what is outside of their immediate selves. I knew that from somewhat of a familiarity with developmental stages but seeing them just walk right out into the bike path in front of runners or cyclists proved this. It's probably why kids freely dance and jump and play in public and why adults do not - they don't realize that anyone else might be around.
You know what other group is oblivious to cyclists coming on the trail? Moose, that's who. This time there was a youngish one right at the base of a steep hill, just munching away. I stopped and circled back, waiting for it to move on. When I turned around there were these two men on bikes who were so inebriated that they didn't even realize there was a moose maybe 30 feet in front of us. They split to let me pass through and I commented, "Just waiting for the moose..." And they said, "Oh, dude, there's a moose," and just started pedaling like crazy, passing right behind its hindquarters. The moose didn't seem to notice so I went, too, but kept looking behind me thinking how it might want to chase me down the trail and bite my shirt and also, I have a very active imagination.
I think all my grease monkeying around made me feel kinda tough. Like, I dare you, moose, just try and follow me and bite my shirt.
No comments:
Post a Comment