It is Friday morning and I am having a tough realization that my body is having a hard time keeping up with my motivation. I made the mistake of riding for an hour without my shirt on yesterday and lets just say my back gives a new definition to white. Think of a polar bear, drinking a glass of milk in a blizzard. That type of white. Notice that I used a polar bear. Seams tougher than a swan or a fly larva. Yep . . . White and now red. Think of a lobster hanging out in Target in the red linen section. Yep . . . Red and now painful. Tossing and turning wasn’t an option last night, in part because Justin was right next to me, but mostly because any shifting would send shooting pain throughout my back for about 30 seconds until I stopped moving. Justin and I had a fun exercise yesterday of trying to put into words the pain we were feeling at one particular moment. That moment found me with my back burnt, my stomach twisted in knots and my right knee starting to scream at me. I thought my stomach felt like a burning hot coal that was slightly electrified was buried in my belly. The type of electricity that surrounds a Novocaine shot at the dentist. The sun burn pain came on like one of those rain sticks. Not so loud at first but then all at once and it kept all of me occupied not to tear up a bit. Bikers don’t cry. Well maybe the Harley types don’t but I think I just repacked my bags and I found some lycra in there. You can cry when wearing lycra. This fabric is much better than leather for wicking the tears away. Oh yeah . . . The knee pain. This is what I have been scared about since we first left Telluride. I have danced with a  bit of the knee pain before and it usually sets in after a silly over extension of what I am physically capable of accomplishing. It appears I have entered a bit of silliness once again. Well, now that you know all about the sour In my life, I think it would only be fair to share some of the sweet.

I met a man by the name of Jim yesterday. He reminded me that the world is small and a smiling face is sometimes all you need to pull yourself away from a bad situation. I was about four miles from the summit of McClure pass when I saw a car veer off the road and roll end over end for a thousand feet or so. It was violent. Stuff flying out of the car, loud noises and then silence. Usually when you see such things you step on the gas or run a little faster to get there, but I quickly realized that I was already pushing it about as hard as I could. It seemed to take forever to reach the gathering crowd around a matchbox replica of what used to be an SUV. There was a startled business man with his cell phone case still strapped to his belt laying in the grass after miraculously walking away from the crash. He wanted to know where his blackberry had been tossed. I wanted to know if he was OK. A quick run through found him in relatively good spirits considering the traumatic event and his body appeared to be all in one piece. Who knows when there is that much adrenaline pumping through a one’s body. His name wasn’t Jim, but an inquisitive fellow in the gathering crowd went by that name. He initially wanted to see my bike and ask about the trailer. We talked of my plans and of his until we realized that he is the father of the very person who got me out the door and onto my bike Tuesday afternoon. Jacey Depriest is Jim’s daughter, my neighbor and the behind the scenes savior of the Zero Emissions Tour. We quickly realized that Jim and his wife were heading to Ophir to stay in my house that very evening. What kind of crazy coincidence was this? Apparently a good one because he offered to fix my bathroom light that I left dangling in my house. I wish him the best of luck with that and I imagine I will have a chance to thank him when I come upon another car accident.

We are traveling to Vail today where a condo and our first official stop will be awaiting us. There are two shows. One on Saturday and one on Sunday. Come on out and support the cause. Looking forward to seeing you all there and I hear there will be a dance party or two, so bring those dancing shoes.

Still brought to you by the painfully sustainable biker/writer/photographer, Drew.

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