Transition

43˚ and raining. So I guess this is what fall means when you live in someplace other than the colorado rockies, someplace where the sun does not shine 365 days per annum. I wont lie, the last few weeks of montana weather have worn a little heavy. But, it has also been good exercise for staying positive, because fall is, after all, a season of transition.

It seems strange to me that so much can come out of the grey area between two things, I suppose though, that between summer and winter, there is really very little grey. Instead, the changing aspens, the reddening scrub oak, even the grasses and pine trees, are all swept up in the chilled northerly winds in the rush for winter with very little that is left grey (except when its raining). More so than sight, fall is a vast collection of stimulation to the senses, not just colors, but smells, thoughts, sounds. Memories of relaxing after summers of traveling to races, grinding up argentine pass in the snow, with cold soggy feet. The long singlespeed rides with omv after school, up lefthand and fourmile in the afternoon light with dried up leaves clattering in the breeze and pushing down the canyons to make it home before dusk with noses running and eyes bleary from the stinging cold inversions along the creek. The smell, ah the smell, when the yellow leaves reach the ground and begin their decomposition - or is it recomposition, of life, to death, to life again, when the damp earth swallows all, the smell of that is the greatest herald of fun I could ever ask for.

As with life, however, fall can not be seen only in past light, he who dwells in the past... well yeah, you get it. Its about the future too though. The anticipation, the adrenaline rush, every time the clouds clear, and the caps of white donning the high peaks have grown, because winter is right around the corner. The autumnal equinox is in 6 days. and this, this is a victory. For those who live everyday with dreams of snow, the summer solstice is the turning point. When we pass that barrier and turn towards longer nights and cooler temperatures. But for me, living ever in the future is just as much of a waste, because summer has many great things to offer as well, and to spend summer brooding, waiting, is plain stupid. Never the less, all things come to an end, and as with summer, so has my lust for riding. Already, hours in the gym have been checked away with crunches, lunges, leg presses, pull ups, bounding, and running, general fitness is the key hear. A strong body is the necessary solid base for long days in the snowy peaks. For the majik of gliding over carpeted tracks on rails, each huff and puff right now makes the huffing and puffing over skin tracks that much better.

So with a solid grasp on past, present, and future, I say fucking live. Adventure and enjoy, because this world - this life - is damn good.