Writer’s Log: 1885 Pedalin’

Back when I used to ride a street bike through the hills of Marin County.


I pedaled long,
barbed fence after fence raced my fleeting form.
I pedaled smooth,
muscled metronome, one revolution per second.
I pedaled steep,
shady redwoods grew at impossible angles on the mountain side.
I pedaled quick,
a blue Mercedes grazed my left hip.
I pedaled hard,
salty beads slid down from my armpits and temples.

I coasted.

Black and yellow bees, large enough to hurt,
buzzed at my head.
Thin strands of weeds, tanned in the summer sun
whipped at my ankles.
Flitting brown sparrows, trim ones with sleek profiles,
air danced at my side.
Heady scented wind, warm but touched with ocean mist,
streamed into my lungs.

I pedaled slow,
cool sweat chilled the nape of my neck.
I pedaled on,
under bolls of clouds hanging listless in an achingly blue sky.

I stopped.
I had reached the cheese factory and it was time for lunch.
I ate.
I pedaled home.

4 thoughts on “Writer’s Log: 1885 Pedalin’

  1. Loved this one! I’m a cyclist and have been to the Petaluma cheese factory many times! Btw, thanks for liking my latest post…and that reminded me to check GoogleDocs…I see you made some new edits just a few hours ago! I’ll download and replace my old files. It’s amazing you take the time to do that….thank you! And how’s the new job going? Still have time to do the things you want to do?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I haven’t done the edits to your doc, I just grab the latest post to ensure it’s there when I go to update it (things vanish so fast around these parts…).
      This took place way back in the mid 80’s, long time ago. Too much wine was consumed during those trips, it’s a wonder I’m alive at all.
      Will post about the job soon…

      Liked by 1 person

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