10+ | Pre Day: A Map for Things
Could you want that unknown destination,
the unmarked perimeter, the new night’s
bed somewhere at a primitive site where you ride
in one way, but leave another, pockets full?
If this is an atlas, to get to the next X, the map folds,
back-sided with history and details. What
should be north turns out west. The compass needle whirls
towards treasures. A pass is a climb, then a switchback
roll down a mountain along a river into a valley.
There’s a graveyard, a cave of once pirates. Then
the road again with a friend—you need to feel lost, to stop
for what’s been dropped by mistake and hold it,
to follow a different route towards the coast. Could you
have sought this key, these symbols, this path
across the country? States and counties divide. Everywhere
options to sleep, eat, and repair are marked.
Yet there’s this new way to learn the upshifts of land
and continent, what is discarded or pitched
for someone like you to find. You get on your bicycle.
The wheel is direction, at push off the trail.