You may show up, layered nine times over, all mittens and scarves and stocking caps, and notice that no one else has come. But so be it.
Read MoreFor a breathless instant, that familiar whisper ceases. You just rode across an invisible patch of ice, and the tire studs did their duty.
Read MoreYou are not daunted easily. You pedal on without recognition. You (with your cold toes and wind-burned face) just ride. Ride on!
Read MoreThis moon is for long underwear and an extra pair of socks, flannel shirts and worn out scarves waving from behind us as we pop-pop together over gravel roads.
Read MoreThis is what we have to learn to overcome, that’s all. It is a broken home where truth is difficult to discern and where time continually shoves us on from behind.
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