|The World is your bike path|
Always stressful, I did not have the energy to get my cycling gear together before I myself went to the clouds. On top of the sick kid, the weather orb said rain, sleet and snow over night so the chances of me rolling out for an early morning ride were slim.
However at 6am as the sun drove through the curtains I realized that the crust riding would be totally perfect. I flopped out of bed, grabbed what gear I could scrounge in my half awake state and headed for the door. Along the way I passed my camera bag and I paused. It would be heavy, it would take time to load up, blah, blah blah.
For awhile now I have been trying to actually leave the camera behind.
Or at least carry a smaller one as it frees me up to concentrate on my activity and not my shooting. The catch 22 of course is that I love both. Today I opt for the small camera, despite the lack of battery and shove off thinking only of riding.
The crust was totally perfect. I was able to ride through the deep woods as if I were on Cement. I giggled like a three year old for 99 percent of the ride. Eventually my loop took me back to the Thomson Res and even that ice was perfect. Still thick and safe.
By now I was lamenting leaving my camera gear behind. This was truly a special morning and the weather report is thankfully saying lots of warm weather from here on out, so this is most likely the last morning for this mayhem.
I choke back the thought and concentrate on enjoying the conditions.
Half way back across the lake I stop near the Midway River to enjoy the sight. The light is nearly perfect. Clear with a slight haze making it a photographers dream. The stellars and dendorites, sparkle like gems in the crust and the hoar frost gleams in the sun beams. Perfect. Now I am engrossed in the spectacle and almost in pain in not having my big rig.
I snap a few shots and watch my little camera battery die. I shrug it off.
I put one foot on the pedal and prepare to ride again when I decide for one more look and as I look up I see the biggest and most beautiful wolf stride mere feet away from me.
Out in the open lake, the rim light streaking across him, his breath steaming in the early morning air. I am stunned, he is stunned and then he streaks off across the lake, a vapor trail in his wake.
I pedal home feeling Naked and unprepared...
|Tuesdays Pow is Thursdays Cement|