Winter in Alberta seems to last an un-godly amount of time. The region where I reside the weather is a relentless tease. We recently had a series of cold snaps, a few dumps of snow, a chinook followed by more cold, snow, and this past week another chinook. I don’t have the funds for a fat bike so this winter has made me resolve to start saving for one. This break from the winter has made me realize how much I miss riding and how much I am NOT doing.
All the undoing.
Knowing the work of re-doing.
All the ugh.
So much training missed.
I miss the mountains.
I miss the solitude.
I miss the trail.
I miss the hell of getting to the top of the mountain.
I miss the fun of the downs.
I miss the sound of the trail under my tires.
I miss wearing my 5tens everywhere.
Right now, I can even say I miss those damn greasy roots.
My heart is writing a long-winded love letter, which is turning into an ode, a lullaby, and an annoying pop song to the Rockies.
I am wooing mountains and I plead with spring to come early.