Clunk

The bike, I am told, is a bit of a clunker, but then again it's a touring bike so this time at least the equipment is right. This morning: changing the seat, and performing other feats of bicycle maintenance and repair. Panniers on. It's all zen at this point.

And then off, one hopes and assumes. Meanwhile, silent on the board, although he is holded up, I am told, at home. Or perhaps gone already. This time south, with the wind at his back, and no itinerary other than to continue southward. Big Sur. Or wherever. Maybe we'll all get postcards from Tijuana. Or maybe not.

Through the Sunset District to Highway 1 and then on south. Some of it terrifying but then again, we don't know the road stories quite yet or even if the journey is underway. Soon, dearest reader, and we will know.

Suddenly I realize that I have become the royal we. Perhaps this is why our sleep has been wracked with nightmares. A divergence.

Posted by christian at July 9, 2003 11:27 AM

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