Wednesday Dirt Solo: Golden Moments
The wind blew down canyon and along the downslope hillsides. It was gusting, or maybe just seemed like it. Maybe it was consistently blowing, but seemed to be gusting as I moved into and out from the shelter of ridges along the winding, climbing road. Time and again clouds of dust billowed around a turn in the road just ahead, only to be carried over the side, dissipating in the airy void. Once, though, I watched the cloud rushing toward me, leaving just enough time to bury my face in my jersey before being enveloped.
I have reached the point in the summer when I need something different in the middle of the week, a change of pace to the typical evening road ride, and Cross Town Loop. Fortunately these hills are just up the road, and offer just that mid-week variety that I am looking for.
At the head of the canyon, once I make that turn toward Johnson's Pasture, things change. The wind, no longer barreling through the funnel, slows and softens its advance, flowing smoothly over the rounded hills, along grassy slopes. Its rush turns to a whisper in the needles of the Italian Stone Pine, a rustle in the eucalyptus, then is quiet. The landscape is golden this time of year, this time of the day. Except for where long shadows streak away from the sun, the burnished tone covers the slopes like the summer grass. Golden moments.
the front range
[high sierra] could almost be the high sierra
the Red Dirt Road
Ahh, any loop through the wilderness park needs to end with a run along Powerline