August overnight, and, or, another after
expectation
tends to desire, or is that the other way round?
“If you guys are really us; then what number are we thinking of? 69 Dudes!
Whoa!” - Bill & Ted
As last weekend, which was designated for a long anticipated e-bike experience on the “Cross New Hampshire Adventure Trail”, with an intermission of riotous rest in Bethel, Maine; was deferred due to the weather threatening lightning strikes and airborne water saturation. The desire, expectation, or as Dr. Frank-N-Furter so succinctly expressed, the anticipation, was not abated. So, my longing for some time in nature, pedaling for the balance of my spirit, turned to nearer outlets, or inlets; depending on which way you hold the flask. A mix of the Michigan North Country Traverse and the Manistee Overnighter were measuring up for this weekend as a restoration of some of what i trembled for; but again the weather warned that six hours drive each way would be rewarded with a box of rain on the scales of my ride time. What could i hope in? If it’s to be a lake in the sky, let it be a lake of hope; hey, Zaleski me home! Familiar, glorious gravel was not to disappoint, and sometimes a smaller commitment can deliver a great return…
Into the known i go, not far from home, and not alone i roam - though, gratefully the traffic was practically all parked and enjoying the land and water similarly slowly as me. I did see another bike track on Sunday as i graweled (that’s a should-a-been copywritten term for what we do when we don’t get off the bike, though it would be faster and less grueling) up Racoon Rd between Zaleski and Moonville; i wonder whether you were also going up - oh, that’s a brutal half mile at 17%! Well, whether you were there or elsewhere, here’s a little view from me to you, come along if you will…
The fourth hour, Sunday morning - woke
as the rain fades in, insects song fades out, loud and just right, to make a soothing, glorious night.
Global DJ, blending a peaceful track.
As rain fades away, leafy canopy percussion transitions and insects resume the lead, with so many instruments they’re made of rhythms…
Lovely ride Saturday, more casual pace than typical, intentionally so, slowing down to take more in…Made camp, among many, under Zaleski’s heavy summer canopy with plenty of day-light yet to glow.
A little personal fire, warm meal, and flask of Canadian whisky help the enjoyment flow
into the embers of wood and sky i gaze with the light fading to the speed of sound - let myself lull to sleep as the symphony of life keeps time.
Before i woke and wrote the foregoing fourth hour movement; i dreamt myself camping, and my tent flooded in the rain, my journal (by my head in both reality and dreamscape) was saturated
so i went into a house and put it by a fan to pray release the pages and save the typeset
when i came back out, the tent had collapsed in a muddy pool, and i chastened myself for not getting my phone before too - at least my priorities were in order…
This is my second outing with this tent, and the fact that i’ve gone through a few for rain security is transparent from my dream anxiety ;)
Though the rain was steady, the forest canopy absorbed much, and the tent, even with both side fly’s open, kept all inside perfectly safe and dry - if only my alert subconscious had known without waking the rest of me.
Saturday was an easy stroll, mostly along the Moonville Trail among the horses and other friends, with a little tarmac diversion down to Waterloo State Forest, a worthwhile 2 mile gravel loop up-alone for a couple-hundred feet of climbing for why we’re here. Speaking of why we’re here, this little sunroom-cottage is pretty close to just right; near the Kingsville Tunnel.
Sunday i rolled down the hill from camp to the Iron Furnace lot and unloaded my pack-gear, swapped wheels for my newly snapped 700x40c Booster Pro’s, from the weightbearing 27.5x2.10” Small Block Eight’s, and headed up Irish Ridge for a proper break-in of these new skins. I rode the last few weeks, pushing my luck as it may be, having a few years on my Booster’s and recently a double sidewall puncture (miraculously healed by two Stan’s darts) on the front (as i was sending it crazy down a rock-garden outside of St. Louisville); I begrudged retiring them but the new set proved the propriety of such. (The former language may be construed as an unsolicited, and only recompensed by awesomeness, endorsement of these products)!
Captivated by wildflowers (by the pond-ful and roadside) and, hey, those aren’t early fallen leaves, but butterflies scattering up from the gravel as i near; not to overlook this little relaxed orange fella. From Irish Ridge, down Long Ridge (which is gate-passably closed near the bottom), up-round Bolster (should be renamed Booster i think), Coalmont and Webb Hollow’s (i don’t agree with the implication of my name-heritage emptiness), through Zaleski and a grand loop around the F3 track (i have yet to explore the F1 loop) brought me back down the tarmac to Racoon Rd and up the final burn on my way to the beach; what a welcome refresh, despite the pleasant overcast and drizzle of the day, to finish the day…
I’ve come to enjoy the ride Et al - and hope you are also refreshed with a lake of hope!
