Sure enough. I am still cycling along the ridge line when the last mobile home disappeared into the rear view mirror. To my left and right there's a panoply of parallel ridges, coated with dry, yellow grass, and punctuated with yucca. Barely a house can be seen. There are distant mountains in most directions. Ahh how nice; my dirt road follows this ridge line for miles, just as I had hoped.
There isn't a cloud in the sky but the sun is as muted as if it were on the coast, instead of over the high desert of New Mexico. It reminds me of Anacortes, WA, near the cool water of Puget Sound. Yesterday we had an unlikely thunderstorm and the air is still moist and gentle.
If only a bird would disport with this ridge line right now! That happened quite a bit during my full time RVing days. Alas, today the air is too quiet for avian aerobics. So I have to look at old photos to reminisce about similar situations.
A bird flying by a bluff line or a ridge line at just the right moment can be a powerful experience. It captures the human observer's mood so perfectly. It brings on a temporary, endorphin-induced metempsychosis. The souls of rural yahoos have long ago transmigrated into internal combustion engines, from the looks of their driveways and backyards. And I have become a bird, looking down on the grubby existences of homo sapiens, hang gliders and kite flyers, excepted.
Years ago I bought this touring bicycle because of its versatility, and then ended up chasing spandex on paved roads only. In effect, I clipped its wings and it has never really flown. A touring bike is meant to make a bicycle-outing multi-dimensional. It's Sunday morning and I haven't encountered one motor vehicle on this dirt road. It feels great to finally honor the bicycle with a proper outing.
Yesterday I bought a safety flag and mounting bracket for the touring bicycle. How embarrassed a real cyclist would be to ride with me! Perhaps it is implicit in this purchase that I am going to ride alone in the Little Pueblo. That's kind of sad.
Why didn't I bring my camera today? There are more wildflowers than I expected. Has yesterday's rain already perked them up?
It was fun to write this post in present tense, immediately after getting off the bicycle, and while still under the influence. The reader probably needs a break from "crisp sarcasm" and cynical "weltschmerz". (growl)
