Not really, but I wish I was. I haven't been on the bike. Its cold out--like 30 degrees. This is just for a week or so then things are back to normal. Being cold sucks--and when it gets cold, old injuries ache. The broken shoulder starts to hurt a lot. Basically the left side of my upper body hurts--the side that got busted up. And the whip-lash in the lower back flares up.
See I traded in my horses for bikes--yeah, I have broken stuff riding the bike, but I almost myself killed riding horses. I was younger then... Riding horses through the woods and mud and snow is kind of like mountain biking--its just a rush! I wish a few times I would have worn a helmet when I was riding Saladan, my big Polish Arabian--he could haul ass! And it would have saved the bit o' plastic surgery on my eye brow and cheek bone--not noticable now of course.
The horse riding accidents were just that--accidents. Sometimes me not paying attention. Horse slips in mud, you lose your balance and fall and break your collar bone--a rib or two.
When I met Bev, I discovered that she could ride pretty good. But she didn't go for the mud, sweat, flies, shit, the smells, and all that glorious filth that goes along with horses.
Sometimes when I ride home in the evenings, I pass the stables, and that familar dusty smell is hanging around as the young girls take their riding lessons.
Gosh, I'm getting all sentimental--I miss Saladan. A good horse. A big horse for a big guy like me. He never complained and always enjoyed being out and about. When I would show up at Old Joe Mellette's farm where I boarded him, he would come running up from the pasture and meet me, eager to go!
Allure Libre!
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