I stopped to talk to a couple of mountain bikers the other day. The man had a nice handlebar bag, which I complimented him on. He said he liked to ride without one of those ubiquitous "Camelbak" bags that are virtually part of the uniform these days.
It felt so good to hear somebody else said that. I have always disliked anything on my back. I used to joke that it was half the reason why I biked instead of hiked.
But when everybody else buys their $100 Camelbak (or another brand) you can feel like such a crank for being different, even though you can give good arguments for your preference. Anyway I am back to biking the way I like. What a difference!
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Isn't it amazing how imitative humans are, if a curmudgeon has to consciously struggle to liberate himself in such a trivial thing?!
You could blame this eccentricity on a tacto-centric orientation. Again, it makes one feel like an oddball.
The other day I walked out of my trailer on a coolish day and felt so relieved not to be bracing myself against the onslaught of the sky. It would be a shame to have missed this pleasure. I visualized all of those square inches of skin feeling friendliness towards the sky. It's as if those square inches of skin expanded outward and melted into the landscape, without the usual dread of heat and the sun. That sounds corny, doesn't it? But it felt like more than vapid sentiment. It felt so real.
The long disease of summer is over. But there is no need to preach to the choir. Surely autumn is most people's favorite season.
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