At first there’s one. A second later comes another… And then all hell breaks loose, as a cascade of perspiration rolls forward with vengeance. It’s the first real tangible clue that you’re getting close; close to the middle of nowhere and close to California’s Central Valley in the middle of summer.
Coming out of yet another series of contiguous sweeping corners, you feel the slight ache in your wrist - because it’s already been a long day - but instead of falling victim to your inner demons you press on. Ignore …

It’s been a rock’n few weeks for riding — With the weather turning, the skies clearing (relatively speaking) and a bit more free time then usual, I’ve some how managed to rack up just over a 1,000 miles thus far this month. While that’s just a drop in the bucket for the high mileage crowd, for me it’s historically quite good. Also probably explains why I’ve felt rather relaxed - even on days when the weather went to hell and the bike got tossed about, because there was always ‘tomorrow’ …

Sliding over the saddle, I duck to the inside. Bask in the sunshine and feel the harmony of the bike, the road and the reason come together. The tires grab the chunky asphalt and tilt to the match the moment. It’s fast and swift and marvelous.
All the ingredients of perfection.
Twisting my neck, I stare down the edge of a peripheral vision. Try to connect with what’s remotely perceptible. Watch the yellow lines comfortably contort around the side of the mountain before they disappear behind the next jutting collection of rocks …