... sometimes it rains like silver ...
by the way, anyone recall "Conrad"s in NYC.
rc
alex va
> Second Sunday of November
> Morning brings a cold, steady rain
> The cycling year is winding down
> Except for those with different ambitions
>
> Time for a test, riding the wet trail downstream
> To where the interurban bridge once stood
> Crumbling wreckage of concrete and rotting steel
> Victim of the Flood of '37
>
> The new extra-long fender performs as-advertised
> The frontal spray deflected forward of the bike
> Tracking left and right, I can aim the stream
> Like a squirt gun mounted on an amusement park ride
>
> At the other end of the fender the situation is rather bleak
> My homemade mudflap hangs twisted and limp
> It's leather attachments seemed a good idea in a warm, dry workroom
> But soggy leather is not a sturdy structural material
>
> Thunder in the distance, the day changes
>>From dove to charcoal
> A flash of lightening
> (What the Hell am I doing out here?)
>
> I'm riding
> Same as I've always done
> In spite of the cold
> In spite of the rain
>
> Same as I've always done
> In spite of the disappointments
> In spite of the loneliness
> I'm riding
>
> In spite of the loss
> In spite of the sadness
> In spite of the silenced voice
> I'm riding, same as I've always done
>
> Looking out across the river, standing where my father and I once stood
> On a chill but sunny November day
> He - staring across the years to his childhood
> Trying to explain to me what the now-wrecked bridge had meant to him
>
> In spite of the memories, and because of them
> I'm riding in the cold rain
> On the Second Sunday of November
> To where the interurban bridge once stood
>
>
>
> Aldo Ross
> Middletown, Ohio
>
> http://en.wikipedia.org/