A Typical Ride

A caravan of five Porsches pass by and interrupt my few of hogs grazing on the hilly countryside. I also saw a dead deer, multiple opossums, and a raccoon. I saw Shetland ponies and donkeys. I'm not positive, but I think I saw a baby buffalo too. He was wrenching and squeezing his neck between two strands of barbed wire fencing to reach the grass on the other side. Of course, I saw the usual horses and cows, hawks and crows, goats and sheep, streams and ponds.

I saw the land still devastated by the tornadoes that swept through in April. I saw the work that had been done, the work being done, and the work that needs to be done. The countryside is still a mess even though many homes have been rebuilt already.

I explored new roads and revisited old ones. I climbed mountains and got to overlook valleys for miles and miles. I got chased by three dogs and avoided attacks on all three accounts. The sun warmed by back and the wind chilled my face as it swept through the sparsely placed hairs of my beard. I shot snot rockets and ran stop signs. The wind slowed me down to single digit speeds at times and I cruised down descents at 48 mph.

It was a pretty typical ride. It was an amazing ride. It was why I ride.
The saddle, it is probably my favorite place in the world and where I am most at peace.