Frogs and fireflies

Half-a day in an air-conditioned McDonalds isn’t any usual sort of therapy, but bottomless 40oz. Kleen Kanteens of soda and free WiFi are just what the doctor ordered yesterday afternoon.  Dodging a dripping wet heat that eventually gave way to thunderstorms, I computed for several hours, familiarizing myself with the WordPress interface and searching for my “voice” (still looking).  I’m going to test-ride this blogging thing for a bit.  I’ve got something to say for sure, I’m just not sure if any of it needs to be said aloud.  We’ll see.

At dusk, I set off into much cooler air.  The trail, recently soaked and now dark, took the effect of a video game in which fireflies were quickly approaching stars and galaxies   The trail became a tunnel of obstacles as potholes pooled water and fallen limbs begged rear derailleurs to tangle; my powerful, narrow beam of light pierced the soupy rain-soaked air to uncover obstructions in just enough time to be safely averted.  Twice, fallen trees required dismounting.

I interrupted half a dozen post-rain frog gatherings.  Frogs seem not to know which way to go when approached, nor do deer or squirrels.  I’m not sure I would either.  I suppose the only thing that gets you dead in that situation is indecision.  Decision, of any kind is better than indecision.  Campfires along the banks of the Potomac completed this small-town Saturday night. The evening drew me into Ray Bradbury’s Green Town, IL, full of dandelions and fireflies, fresh cut grass and thick summer air.  Men were fishing the river at dark just above the dam.  Riding the trail at dark was like staying out late past bedtime; to come home sweaty with grass-stained knees and muddy shoes, a childhood prize.  I might be eight years old.

Heading north today from Hancock, MD into PA.  State College and the Pine Creek trail (the Grand Canyon of PA) are on the horizon.

2 thoughts on “Frogs and fireflies

  1. Geez, dude. I’m super happy to be reading these words. You are the quintisential bicycle traveler, and I’m better personally to have ridden most of the C&O with you. This shit is out of nowhere. Kind of mystical and unreal from where I sit. (Which is a few miles from Kansas, going west on the newly-renamed Hoopty ATB. Stay strong and tear it up. Love, Chris.

  2. Pingback: The Deep Greens of August, Czech Republic | gypsy by trade

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