A Taste of Spring

Going to take a different track, today. I’m still holding steady in the novel-writing arena, without any major, major breakthroughs (outside of some new ideas for book 3, and finishing up minor tasks toward the revision of book 1). So I thought I’d talk about another passion of mine: cycling.

This is a difficult time of year for cyclists like me. I’m getting the itch, to be sure, but conditions outside are either null because I’m at work, or less than ideal to ride in when you’re slightly out of shape. Or if you’re really out of shape.

But I’m writing articles on cycling as I get ready for a self-made freelance opportunity on hubpages.com. I’m watching the ABSA Cape Epic XC Race highlights on YouTube while I work for my wife. And I work in a bike shop.

And my mountain bike sits on a hook at said bike shop, waiting for me to find pedals and time to pedal.

For now, I’m riding my trainer two days a week, getting my lungs and legs in shape for what we lovingly term “hills” here in southwestern PA. Like the ones at my local park that allow you to climb 300+ feet of elevation in the first three-quarters of a mile from the trailhead. “It’s a small hill,” I can hear the people say as they come west from the Appalachians. “We’ll just go straight up it.”

I did get in shape on those hills, back when I first got my mountain bike after a year of not having one. But since the weather is worse now than it was then, and since I’m working more now than I was then, I can content myself with riding the trainer. There will be a lot of nice days to come. A lot of them.

For now I forge ahead, head down and legs and brain spinning, knowing one day I’ll enjoy the bliss of singletrack. Sometimes you just have to put your time in.

Like, for now I’ll put my head down and revise, spitting out words like a cheap spray gun – great globs spattering here and there, but getting a coat on the wall either way. Later I can smooth it out. After that a professional can come in and make it look crystalline; put some sealer on it for future generations to enjoy.

It might suck now. It kind of does suck now. But if I keep at it I’m confident I’ll enjoy published bliss. Like singletrack, I’m sure it’ll still be hard work and long nights – but plenty of euphoria-inducing moments swooping through pine-needle carpets and flowing around the writer’s marketplace. I’ll arrive at the book-launch sweaty and panting with dirt covering my face and bike and I won’t help but smile as my metaphors get so confused you wonder if a mountain man is going to end up signing your copy.

He won’t. Around here, we only have hills.

I’ll be a hill man.

Speaking of Hillman, the State Park? The trails there…