Cure

Juancho touched on the subject of rebuilding yourself via cycling. Today, I get where he's coming from, but on a more immediate note, I'm thinking more along the lines of the short term reboot.

Life came out of the box swinging today, and it feels like the round may never end.

These are the days, I most want to ride. These are the days I want to sit on the front of the group, and go until I can't feel my fingers anymore. 'Til my arm's tingle and my vision gets spotty. Until the white hot fury burns away, and leaves me clean again.

Sometimes, reducing things to their basal elements, is the easiest way to gain perspective. Since there are no lions to wrestle, or dinosaurs to dodge, I'll just go ride my bike.

I didn't know Tripp all that well. He was a regular at Revolutions, at the birth of the BC crew. He was a quiet sort of guy, but not unapproachable. He left town for awhile, but eventually I started seeing him on our local trails, again. He would always say hi, and we'd stop and chat when the ebb and flow of our concurrent rides allowed.

While I don't know much of Tripp's life story, I always liked that bikes had remained a theme in his life. Having been in this for so long, I've seen a lot of faces pick up bikes, and then send them back to some dark corner of the garage. Last time I talked to Tripp, he was excited about another new bike. I don't recall exactly what it was, but does it really matter? He was still excited about another two wheeled toy.

I don't know that I ever met any of Tripp's family, but I do recall him talking of children. My heart goes out to them, now.

I heard unconfirmed reports that Tripp was on a trail when his time came. I can definitely think of worse places. May we all be so lucky, as to be in place that has brought long time happiness, when it's our turn.

With the Dave's ghost bike ride last week, and now this, my tree is a bit shaken. The song above is my favorite reminder to embrace today, for all it's worth.

God speed boys. God speed.

Memorial

Tonight there is a Ride of Silence, to deliver a ghost bike to the site where my friend lost his life. The weather is grey and ominous, and life's stresses weigh heavily on my shoulders. No matter the weight, things could always be worse. I could be in young Jake's shoes, and have seen my father in ways that no son should ever see. I could be the mother driving that car, carrying the death of a father, forever on my heart.

I lost an old friend, but there are those who lost so much more. To them, my heart goes out.

The cacophonous, clamor of life can be earsplitting at times.

Tonight is for silence.