Nomadic. Storyteller. Soul searcher. Experience hungry. Music carnivore. Dreamer of better things. They call me H.C. You can find stories about my travels, stories from my decades on earth, and thoughts about why the world turns in our vast universe.
The previous night’s rain did little to damper my plans. I stretch and wolf down a little breakfast before assembling my bike for some early morning trail riding in Trailside Park.
The cool Fall air is perfect as I ride these hills. Although I don’t bike anywhere near as often as I did, the world view from two wheels is still awesome.
Trailside opens up to some more technical dirt tracks that head up into the hills. Feeling adventurous, I deviate and work my way up the mountain. Mud flies and water spins in my spokes.
I can only go for a couple of hours, as my energy and health isn’t the same as it was in previous decades.
I won’t let that stop me from doing what I love though.
Time…distance….none of that matters to me anymore. I just need to keep moving.
I need to keep breathing.
I need to enjoy the small joys of life, like mud speckled to my back from a day of biking in the hills of Park City. [the_ad id=”6336″]