Fall Riding

River Road Loop:  http://connect.garmin.com/activity/52324136

The roads remain but the scenery changes.  Routes change, surfaces change, conditions change and we change.


The increments can be so small they’re rendered null but they exist.  If it were charted in degrees and sharp edges the line would have movement.  Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) real life doesn’t levy the score so cleanly.  It brings gradual shifts hard to track, or blunt events loud and reckoning.  Of course, there is a point, on the outer edges of intensity, where these two matters connect and here lies the continuum, and what for some keep it interesting.

A cycle.  A circle.  A series of peaks and valleys, beats and breaks, high/low, hot/cold, light/dark and on and on.  Without one the other has no definition.  Isolated, we would be left with a single tone and a single shade in a perpetual no mans land.

The changing of season drives this awareness.  Obvious to the intellect maybe but subtle to the senses.  It happens every year but the impact is different each time triggering old thoughts and birthing new ones.

This winter was one of the hardest wettest ones recently and after a blink of spring came record heat and a prolonged drought.  Leaning into the autumn comes the next phase, but will the colors still be as bright as  remembered?  Will the trees have gotten what they need to shine?

This question lingers while the first chill hits, as leaves, still flush with fading green fall in the breezes.  At the same time the sparks of change announce themselves.  A dark red, a golden brown and an illuminated amber.  Maybe not as bright as last year but hard to say.  Who knows.  It is bright enough and bold enough that one can get lost in the aura and let the minutia recede.

This is the start.  The first signs, and as if in silent communication the display widens while it also vibrates as densities and proximities express their majesty.  Each area, region, and species on their own similar but unique time table.  We’ve seen it before but it happens again.  This, on time transition, is heightened or lessened only by our perceptions and expectations.

So far in Lost River things are off to a good start.  It happens quick though.   At RTR we ride up it, over it, through it and against it.  The images fuel our motion. Pushing the pedals and pushing our senses.  To the stuff that is expected and into the unknown.  To the overall, that can be measured or just reveled in.  Either way, in one form or another, it will happen again next year.


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