Your words of power are as follows:

I can't show you mine, but you can show you yours.



The waxing gibbous moon. Solo night time riding. Backlit as if it were a prison break, what with the arcing search lights and the rushing...I'm telling you.

Those of you who live in snow covered areas- you are blowing it if you are not out in this stuff. Reflective surface like that? Get it together, maaaaaaaan!


I am saddened to say that the end of Mudhen Express is bulldozed like no other. I found this out in the dark last night after climbing 50 from Barloy (which is itself "maintenanced" by being flattened into 7" deep sandy powder) and aiming it straight up the run out to hump it up to the cliff-NOPE. Met the several tiered swath of bulldozed destruction.

Ruined. Full stop.

The Caprock Bar is intact (some small good news), but the dozer operator left his 3 pronged scrawl pointing to it, as if mocking or warning or both. Like the Devil's own signature. It's getting rough out there. Lots of Joy getting the blade. I couldn't see everything on account of it was dark and I was somewhat sideways, but the trail proper has so far escaped the grinding, and it looks like they are concentrating the destruction elsewhere. I fear this is the beginning of a road though.



Saw my spirit animal, the Western Screech Owl, up close and personal. Quiet is kept. Listened to 3 separate strings of yodel dogs singing to one another along the ridge West of the Caprock Bar, while I paused for a refresher. Breathed deeply of the ozone smelling fresh air that sometimes shows up and is welcomed when it does. Pedaled circles without stopping.

I apologize for my own swath of destruction. Punishing myself on the fixed cross bike leaves me achy and spent.