Jive Turkeys and Crash Test Dummies.

The scratching chatter of knobs seeking purchase set off alarm bells. Something was all wrong, but the time for correction had passed. I jumped up and got sorted, before Lil Ball could catch me wallowing in the dust. I choked back the adrenalin shot, determined not to let the jitters steal what flow was left. This was mine. It felt good, and I deserved it, dammit.  I got back up to speed, and carried it through the last bit of trail, barely visible in the dusk.

Earlier in the ride, I'd listened as StorminNorman explained how he had been trying to improve his cornering, by trying to use his third eye, through his belly button. I get the principle, but the visual is much better.  I was trying to figure out how he was gonna get a belly mounted monocle to stay in place, as he ponch-pointed his way through the woods, like some kind of half blind, Star-Bellied-Sneech.  I guess my mental mocking earned me a stick in my belly eye, because I never saw that root, I cross rutted over.

Wrecking Ball had his moment too, but I missed the show. He caught back on, describing the  perfect wheelie over a root section. Followed by even more perfect placement of  the front wheel exactly where it needed to go....to stop dead. His body had its own ideas on inertia. He said the whole move felt so perfect, that he was quite certain that he could ride it out, even though his hands had already abandoned their posts at the grips. Luckily his sternum was there to take up the slack, and he chest pounded his bars and stem until they relented their ridiculous effort to keep him upright, and dropped him to the forest floor.  All I can say is, it's a good thing he has that Terr-ection stem that hit him way up on the chest. Otherwise, he might have gotten a black-belly-eye.

I've always heard that if you're not crashing, you're not pushing. And without the push, their is no improvement. Taking stock afterward, I'm not so sure I feel all that improved. Mostly, I just feel like I ran out of talent.  Personally, I think that belly eye StorminNorman was chattering on about sounds way easier, and maybe somewhat less painful than my alternative.

Palm Trees are Candles in the Murder Wind

Mayhem, Bedlam or Angry-Friends, it just doesn't matter.

Have bike. Will travel.

The world gets topsy-turvy, be it the big world, or just the little ones in our heads.  Relatively, it can all feel the same.  Lately, our duly elected politicians squabble like school children and hold our government hostage.  Everyone speculates at who is to blame.  Within the crew, tensions arise and poison the vibe.

He said / She said.....whatever.

I should probably be a whole lot more involved in the big picture, or at least aware of these sorts of things, but the truth is I struggle with it.  My OCD nature would dictate that if I start trying to follow or understand our political miasma, I must then try to fully follow and understand. I'm afraid that will take way more time and commitment than I am willing to give.

In my little world, I'll take care of business to the best of my ability. It can leave you feeling dingy at times.  In the interim, I'll wash away the dirty with a little sweat. I'll buff away the stubborn spots with trail grit and sand. And I'll do it all from the saddle of my bike.

During tonight's scrub down, this tune came bubbling up. Seemed fitting.

When the hills of los angeles are burning
Palm trees are candles in the murder wind
So many lives are on the breeze
Even the stars are ill at ease
And los angeles is burning