i roll silently, from shadow to shadow, trying my best to hide from the sun’s merciless reign…wishing for darkness. wishing for cool. water bottles hot as coffee, saddles too hot to sit on, the sweat between skin and pack…all soon to be a forgotten (bad) dream.
what? it’s still august?
like a vampire groundhog, i crawl from my hole to herald the coming of another poker ride. this saturday night, come out and sing praise to the cooling darkness…or just come to ride.
hidden park, 9pm