Chasing Rabbits

 "... And if you go chasing rabbits

And you know you're going to fall

Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar

Has given you the call..."

Grace and company's well-known, and widely replicated, song about White Rabbits, and other such stuff, is a classic of '60s and 70s counter culture. Out There I have my own version of the story. It does not involve any little pill to make you smaller, nor any other that makes you larger. There are no men on a chessboard telling you where to go. What there is, is a mountain bike, a dirt track heading into a setting sun, and chasing white (tailed) rabbits through a tunnel of yellow-wreathed mushrooooo mustard.

There were two of them tonight, two different trails, two different tunnels, and did they lead a good chase because I was already in full flight, chain was flapping, and that mustard was whipping, as I passed, in a frothy frenzy. Those little bunnies, though, were up to the task, bolting away from a sit start, kicking up their hind legs, long ears streaming behind them. I didn't stand a chance.

The evening ride - it's what feeds my head.