The Ghost in the Machine

It was a beautiful sunny day today. Cold and fiercely windy, but beautiful. I rode out Trindle Road to Hollenbaugh Road. I stopped there and looked at the scenery.

It was nice.

Then I turned around and went back the way I came. I got home and I was *beat*. I don’t know why, it was only about a 17 mile ride. The only rides I’ve been getting in lately are commutes, and those aren’t very long.

I guess I should probably start doing some longer training/recreational rides.

Those of you who know me in real life already know that I am wierd. This next bit might be new for the rest of you…

Once upon a time, I wanted a car, but was poor. So my dad and I bought a book and some Volkswagen Beetles (the old kind) from a junkyard, and gathered enough parts from them to build one functional Beetle. This was my first car.

This beetle was my pride and joy, and we rode all over the countryside and into the mountains and to the beach and everywhere together. It got to the point where I could ‘feel’ if something was wrong with the car a week before I could measure it with the feeler guages. I once wired a broken throttle linkage together with a scavanged cotter pin and some duct tape, and drove her 200 miles home from Virginia that way.

Ultimately, the salty winter roads got the better of her, and I had to sell her.

I was very sad about that.

Today, I was on the Trek, blasting down the road, with the wind at my back and a cyclone of fallen leaves swirling around us.

I got that same ‘one with the machine’ vibe I used to get with my old Volkswagen.

She was back! The reincarnated soul of my old VW is alive and well in my bicycle!

Woo Hoo!!!

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