GMR Friday Returns

Somewhere, somehow I swerved off schedule without realizing it. Looking back along my paths of travel, I find that there has not been a GMR Friday in more than half a year. True I have been up there in that time (though not in the past three months), but the typical Friday rides inexplicably slipped away.


Mother Nature has begun to roll out the green carpet on either side of the roadway. It was quite welcoming. It was nice to see bunches of riders including Phil, Dick, and Brenda descending the turns on the bottom half. I believe it was Bill I passed soon after those first three, then a little further along, Mrs Bill, Glendora Mountain Road herself, riding with a friend. There was a quartet of riders up at the Top of Monroe (ToM), and a few more scattered about for good measure. There were more slalom boarders than I have ever seen at one time. There was one person taking photos at various points along the first half of the climb, and envisioned someone scouting out the time trial course for the upcoming San Dimas Stage Race.

Deciduous trees beside the road, some growing on the verge, but most just over the side, growing on the steep downslopes, are beginning to leaf out adding fullness to their stick shadows. They might envy the oaks, who keep their mantle year-round, but I doubt it. Their seasonal changes more than make up for any winter barrenness. Crows drifted lazily against the blue beyond, even their throaty calls seemed mellow on this day. The songs of many other, unseen, birds accompanied me on the ascent - theirs was the chorus to my rhythmic breathing. Everything was coming alive, everything as it should be up on the mountain. It was good to be back.

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