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01-21-04, 02:09 AM
I stapled the paper to the corn plant - the paper to which we wrote our names when we check the row. From time to time I automatically scanned the skies to the west for ominous dark and unforgiving rain clouds, Just some sketchy white and grey tufts, here there scattered.
Things get dim, and the wind started to rustle the dark green leaves of the plants. A horrid and evil cloud of nighttime darkness loomed to the east like a gigantic blimb, ready to drench, saturate, humiliate. The higher winds of the atmosphere had changed, and not told the worklings on the ground, of pending doom.
Lucky we are today, all was done. On the tray of the ute we hop, holding sides as we bounce. Dirt roads that were once dusty, now after days of showers are sticky, lacking of traction. We slide up to the workers hut and I am hopping into the air, the unknown before it comes to a stop. My trusty '02 Zefal bottle is straight into the commuter's cage, and I run to clock out. No one has seen me so nimble and quick after nearly 9 hours of outdoor labour.
Jersey is stuffed into bag, phone sunscreen and marker pen unloaded from pockets and also into the bag. I swing the bag upon my shoulders and don my lifesaver. The keepper of my fate. My helmet. My not so ordinary helmet. My lovely MET hemlet. anyway....
I grab and hop, and am in motion. I whizz down a slippery dirt track, sliding ever so slightly, just keeping control of the slick on the front wheel. Bounding through the rough at the intersection I am onto a gravel drive. In the big ring now, I am pounding towards the tarmac.
A sharp twist of neck and my calculating eye sees the road is clear and I take the leap over the road edge, and I am off. From the middle ring and up into the big one again, I power along with the whispering winds behind me. I am Boardman, riding the TT of his life.... on a cheap MTB with a bag on...but I have it in my mind. I make 5th gear on a slight incline, and back off for the right turn onto a larger road. I sprint. I turn left.
The rain is ever threatening, waiting to wet. An incline looms. I power up in the middle ring, and keep the hammer down as I hit the big ring again across the brow. I chomp into 4th
5th
6th as I hammer along the now flat road.
Boom into 7th, top and final gear. I am grimacing.
A corner looms and I will loose my precious speed, and my tail wind. Big drops are falling, I am glad of my jacket.
The corner has left me back in the dreaded middle ring, fighting a direct side wind. Home is almost in sight. The drops have eased, maybe I am in luck. A left turn and I am back onto the main road. I hammer. Back up into 4th in the big ring, and I ease. I have won this TT. I am victorious. I turn left and glide down the driveway.
Things get dim, and the wind started to rustle the dark green leaves of the plants. A horrid and evil cloud of nighttime darkness loomed to the east like a gigantic blimb, ready to drench, saturate, humiliate. The higher winds of the atmosphere had changed, and not told the worklings on the ground, of pending doom.
Lucky we are today, all was done. On the tray of the ute we hop, holding sides as we bounce. Dirt roads that were once dusty, now after days of showers are sticky, lacking of traction. We slide up to the workers hut and I am hopping into the air, the unknown before it comes to a stop. My trusty '02 Zefal bottle is straight into the commuter's cage, and I run to clock out. No one has seen me so nimble and quick after nearly 9 hours of outdoor labour.
Jersey is stuffed into bag, phone sunscreen and marker pen unloaded from pockets and also into the bag. I swing the bag upon my shoulders and don my lifesaver. The keepper of my fate. My helmet. My not so ordinary helmet. My lovely MET hemlet. anyway....
I grab and hop, and am in motion. I whizz down a slippery dirt track, sliding ever so slightly, just keeping control of the slick on the front wheel. Bounding through the rough at the intersection I am onto a gravel drive. In the big ring now, I am pounding towards the tarmac.
A sharp twist of neck and my calculating eye sees the road is clear and I take the leap over the road edge, and I am off. From the middle ring and up into the big one again, I power along with the whispering winds behind me. I am Boardman, riding the TT of his life.... on a cheap MTB with a bag on...but I have it in my mind. I make 5th gear on a slight incline, and back off for the right turn onto a larger road. I sprint. I turn left.
The rain is ever threatening, waiting to wet. An incline looms. I power up in the middle ring, and keep the hammer down as I hit the big ring again across the brow. I chomp into 4th
5th
6th as I hammer along the now flat road.
Boom into 7th, top and final gear. I am grimacing.
A corner looms and I will loose my precious speed, and my tail wind. Big drops are falling, I am glad of my jacket.
The corner has left me back in the dreaded middle ring, fighting a direct side wind. Home is almost in sight. The drops have eased, maybe I am in luck. A left turn and I am back onto the main road. I hammer. Back up into 4th in the big ring, and I ease. I have won this TT. I am victorious. I turn left and glide down the driveway.