Ghost

Street light glow
     Through dusty shades
Ghosts
    Sliding on porcelin skin
Shadows show where you begin
             A gap where I end
Filled salty tears
And we swim from wall to wall.
  Street light glow
Fan, turned to low, circulating
Static air
             From breath
Talking in circles
And we lay in a gap
     Drying from the salt and blank stares.
  Imagine moments street lights
Glowed
  Industrial noise knocked out
Erratic tempos. And sounds from neighbor’s window
   Kept us aware.
Imagine that ghost
Visiting through the shades
   Touching porcelin skin
I am that ghost
   I never left
      I am beside you
Damaged but beside you
Tired but beside you
  Hopefull and beside you
Strong and beside you.

Life Floats On

Before i go into what’s going on with myself and the bubble I’m in, I want to shout out to my great friend Rob C.  Last week he was admitted to a hospital and diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer.  I grew up with Rob and together we defined what it was to be best friends and brought boys will be boys to a new level.  The stunts we pulled were absolutely hilarious and ridiculous. It’s a wonder we made it out of highschool.  He went on to snowboarding the hell out of the Rockies and I went on to racing mt bikes and surfing the waters of the Pacific.  But every wave and every inch of air I caught with board or bike, he was there.  Laughing when I ate shit and yelling at the top of his lungs when I landed something sick.  Keep him in your thoughts and heart my friends.  he’s one of us!

Speaking of eating shit:  I crashed and crashed good.  The race, I was prepping for was 2 weeks ago and it has taken me this long to form some thoughts and breathe halfway normal.  Race day started off normally.  Nervous as hell and no appetite.  But I forced the standard Go Lean down my throat,  prepped my gear, thanked my great hosts and friends Kurt and Georgeanne for letting us crash in their sick van–keeping the beer cold and letting us shower..  we drove up to the race site.  People were pouring in and the music was full tilt.  It was race day!  And not the uptight road scene but the I’m going fast in the dirt gravity crowd.  It felt like home to someone who grew up in the dirt with the smell of soil permeating from every stitch of clothing  unless I was thrown into the ocean by some practical joking friend Rob!.  Anyway,  The pros went off in 1 minute intervals…then the expert 19-39 gang while I was warming up.  Next my group:  Expert or now called cat 1 40+.  Nerves have subsided at this point to a low rumble of adrenaline.  All doubts removed and existence in the moment blanketed me like an old comforter my Grandma gave me.  The announcer shouts out a plug to beer and my sponsor Ninkasi Brewing….A smile is felt on my face…count down from 10 and I’m moving.   All was effortless and calm through the first few corners.  My plan was not to push the first 5 minutes and build into the race.  However, the first rocky technical section threw me sideways causing me to muscle a correction and resulted in my cleat being ripped out of my shoe.  FUCK.  I was only .5 miles into the race.  I stopped checked the damages and made a semiquick decision to keep rollin.  My left foot could only float on the small clippless pedal.  But hell I’ve never dropped out of a mt. bike race and I was not about to start.  I roll on.  Holding back in the tough parts and letting loose in the flow sections.  There was one section of the trail that had a series of rock drops.  I backed off of those, riding a bit conservative and took different lines then I would have otherwise.  All costing me time.  But at this point it was a game…can I survive and give it a good go.  So far so good.  But, and this is a big BUTT, I had one more rock garden and for whatever reason my bike was sent sideways, my foot floated off the pedal, my weight went forward and I was sent straight to the ground.  My arm and chest hit first then my head snuggled violently up to a rock.  Result:  Broken rib, broken helmet.  Not dropping out!  I gathered myself, mounted the bike and pedaled on.  This is what I do!  I pedal on.  I float on.  A couple of guys who started after me passed me…ah well…I float on.  Racing is my metaphor.  I crash –I keep moving.  People pass me by—I see them all at the end eventually.  Hell we all end up in the same place.  Dusty–dirty–bruised and happy(hopefully).  I finished to the sight of a hot flashing girl,  my friend with a camera and smiles all around.  The pain of the day slowly creeping into the nerve centers of my brain.  Lucky for me ,Ninkasi set me up with recovery drinks.  I passed a few around…stories of the ride abound.  New friends–new riding areas….and now- new helmet and shoes.  Who needs to fix the car’s radiator anyway.  Priorities!  And we float on.  Remember: love your family, your old friends, your new friends, call someone today and say what you’ve been meaning to say.  Love ya all.  KK