This morning the air could be Kenyan, hazy, the promise of hot. It could be Kenya outside, except the air has that slight sparkle of ocean coolness and no scent of wet cardboard or damp wood smoke. The air showed me that I’m not completely back, that still I am between continents.
…Except I had a latte…
…Except I had two breakfasts and went to an Apple Store to fix an iPod.
Yesterday I rode the third ride of the week, up the cemetery from the Sellwood Bridge to Burlingame, over to Terwilliger down to Duniway track and back up again. Zooming down the hills, I felt for the first time in a long time really connected to my bike, like it was part of my body. All too often the handlebars feel like something else alive; the pedals are their own thing. Yesterday they came together, trusted me, and I them.
Today I’ll head up to Skyline, tomorrow the world.