149 words about 88 miles and the man in the cemetery
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I like the social aspect of group rides, but today I did a long solo ride, following a favorite route through Washington Valley and letting my mind freewheel: What’s up next week at work. Costco shopping list. The December ride through here with Payne. Will they ever pave this road? But all that stopped when I glanced at the small family cemetery off 23. A car with the hatchback up. A man in a camo shirt and cargo shorts standing at a grave, hands clasped behind his back, head down, looking at a large spray of flowers. The posture that seems to signal loss and remembrance universally. It’s Father’s Day weekend, so I had a pretty good idea what was going on. I passed in a few seconds, and when I made the turn for home I was reminded of how much you miss a tailwind when it’s gone.
149 words about 88 miles and the man in the cemetery
149 words about 88 miles and the man in the…
149 words about 88 miles and the man in the cemetery
I like the social aspect of group rides, but today I did a long solo ride, following a favorite route through Washington Valley and letting my mind freewheel: What’s up next week at work. Costco shopping list. The December ride through here with Payne. Will they ever pave this road? But all that stopped when I glanced at the small family cemetery off 23. A car with the hatchback up. A man in a camo shirt and cargo shorts standing at a grave, hands clasped behind his back, head down, looking at a large spray of flowers. The posture that seems to signal loss and remembrance universally. It’s Father’s Day weekend, so I had a pretty good idea what was going on. I passed in a few seconds, and when I made the turn for home I was reminded of how much you miss a tailwind when it’s gone.