This blog, website, journal, whatever the fuck it is, is holding on like the last elastical strains of Moscato-flavored vomit off a drunk sorority girl’s chin; for that, I apologize.
In all honesty, I should have put this thing to bed years ago when I realized my love for cycling, especially racing, was evaporating. However, if I sat around thinking of all the things I should have or could have done with my life, I would be a depressed, 51-year-old fat man living in the middle of nowhere-ass Michigan with no real career, dreams, desires, passions, or lusts left in the tank. Um, OK, forget that.
With all that said, I begrudgingly continue on for some reason.
Back when I was mountain biking regularly, I used to enjoy finding a groove while riding in the woods and try to be as efficient and quiet as possible, controlling my breathing, taking in the scenery, and listening to the woods as I glided through the trees.
Fast forward a bit, and it’s been over a year since I last rode a bike further than 50 feet1, and I now find myself opting for a hike in the woods 6 to 7 times a week. Nevertheless, during these hikes, I have rediscovered the peace of moving near silently through the woods with nothing but the sounds of my breath, crunching leaves, chirping birds, creaking trees, occasional howling winds (like Wednesday!), and the mighty Chippewa River continuously flowing towards the Tittabawassee, which according to the maps I’ve not consulted in the least, ends at a Superfund site in some dude’s backyard just outside of Saginaw.
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I have a feeling that if you’re reading this, beyond your poor choice of reading materials, you are probably the sort to opt for a hike, ski, ride, or run outside over time in the gym or sitting in front of the TV. And you know I dig that the most, but if you already don’t, I urge you to leave your earbuds or overly chatty friends at home during your next outdoor adventure and just listen to the sounds and/or the silence of the forest.
Later.
SOILED SOUNDS TRACK VIDEO OF THE POST
A Forest, from the album Seventeen Seconds, is always a live fave, and Robert Smith always finds a way to extend or alter the song to make it even better. Hard to believe that this performance above was from 1979; I was 8 years old, and I wouldn’t really start listening to The Cure for almost another decade.
I’ve spent so many years listening to The Cure as part of playlists or live compilations that I forgot how many stellar tracks are on Seventeen Seconds; what a fucking unbelievable album! It’s like “best of” for brooding teens turned brooding adults, with Play for Today, M, At Night, and Seventeen Seconds all stellar tracks.