It's almost June. Like, really, it IS June. Which means I'm off track.
Being sick has a way of depressing me to no end. It sits me down, shuts me up and pretty much renders me useless and still. Still is difficult. And I don't like it one bit.
Having not completed the 142, and then being enveloped in a heavy chest cold has gotten me off center, and I am thus behind the game on my bike. Darn it all to ffing hell.
The RESET button has been hit, and tomorrow afternoon begins my repeated efforts towards ... the way I like my mtbMe to Be.
So. Enough of that.
It seems that this little here experiment (JenyJoMTBlog) has hit the airwaves and is no longer my private little testing ground. How exciting! Thus, I have added links to my most frequented www spaces. I would like to honor you all because I've been following you (well, your writing ... or so you think), and have employed your words of wisdom, your candid advice, your dreams and your mtbInpirations most thoroughly. Cheers to you all, for lighting fires.
I thought that I was going to have a full weekend of MTBmaddness to post about. Such is not the case. Instead, the chest cold (and ensuing goo) would not allow me to ride more than a whopping 4 miles on pristine, relatively untouched trail. So be it. I napped in the car for 3 hours, meditated the remaining 3 hours, and have never been more relieved to see my two honorable pals return before dark. (After all, how am I supposed to rescue people on an adventure of an unknown course... riiiiight).
So being on the trail this weekend on my bike was a bust. However, I got to spend the most remarkable day on a trail, on my feet for a good part of the day on Saturday. (Nope, not a single picture.)
I don't know what to say about a hike that was so incredibly unlike any and every other hike I've been on in my entire life (which have been countless, trust me). Not to mention the fact that I was actually in territory that I grew up in. One ridge over from a trail I've known since kindergarten, I was introduced to a world I've never seen, and in a manner I've never known. I have drafts of poems and abstracts from the day ....... but truly, the experience resides in a wordless realm, eliciting for me a peace that is beyond my ability to explain. Describing it feels like it does not do it justice.
So, for you, a few notes of interest:
buttercups in billions
stalking the call of the wild
meandering the green edge
of our unknown
the bright sky
sweet with light,
the soft ground,
the dance of the humming bird
calling a succulent song
in your shadow
trailing the budding spring
of bluebells and bones
So.That was Sunday. And Monday found me in bed, resting. Things have been so still, and yet so full; the Center at peace, and the edges holding such promise.