I grow tired of the city, where the greedy have come together to prey on the normal folk, where destruction is the expected norm, where endless waves of automobiles wash over the landscape in an eternal storm surge of waste and destruction.
Sitting on top of Green Mountain I could watch the insane stream of steel and glass creep along C470. Some snarl--some crash--had caused the flow to back up and roil together. I was thankful my chosen mode of transportation didn't require floating that course.
The summit of Green Mountain would have been peaceful, except for the incessant dull roar of thousands of cars rolling along the asphalt that rings the prairie peak. That dull roar never stops, never gives over completely to the sounds of an abused nature trying to take back the landscape and the atmosphere.
Incessant. Ceaseless. Endless. Eternal.
Well, not really. The seemingly constant flow will cease. It's not eternal. When the finite supply of oil begins to trickle, then Green Mountain will have peace.
I don't think there will be peace for me until this life ends. Life, in fact, is chaos and not peace. I have hope of beyond, and will make the most of Now, but I'm tired of playing by rules that make no sense.
Another week in cubicle hell has me abiding in a calm melancholy. Life is bittersweet, moments of joy surrounded by long stretches of turmoil and chaos, and therefore worthwhile.
I'm unmotivated to continue answering the same questions, having the same arguments, explaining the same board game rules to an endless tide of citizens with questions about zoning. The vast majority of them are frustrated that these contrived rules are necessary, and the remainder only think they should apply to everyone but themselves.
I'm sick of playing board games. We (humans) make the rules. They are not part of the natural order of things. We can change the rules to comply more with nature and less with the whims and greed of Man.
What does all this have to do with cycling? I thought of it all while riding my bike. I rode up the west road on Green Mountain this morning as a training ride for the Alpine Odyssey. Where the Mordwand is short and steep, the Green Dragon's tail is almost twice as long with less consistent, but maybe steeper, sections. I powered up each steepening section confidently until I surmounted what seemed like a vertical wall of gravel road. I stopped at the crest to get my breath back before continuing on. But the Green Dragon wasn't done with me, no, I rode a little farther before facing a steeper section of road in a switchback. I just walked it.
Once my physical obstacles were overcome I reached the summit. That's where I looked back on the insanity that is the northern terminus of C470 during the morning workweek commute.
I need to find the courage to break with the insanity once and for all.