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No-Handers, still a great trick

 Hello beautiful people. I promise this is still a mountain biking blog. I won't force my fiction writing on you very often.  I have a lot of stories that I start and then they just fizzle out. So I though if I posted the first chapters on here I would have to commit to finishing it.  Since I spent my weekend mornings writing, and not hiking into the woods for trail maintenance, I'm very out of shape. Mountain biking is sort of like a deal with the devil. It will keep you healthy and happy, but the catch is you can never stop. Any time I break from mountain biking physical fitness, the years come flooding in and I begin to feel my actual age.  I'm trying to get back at it. The smart thing to do would be to start with a strong cardio base and work from there introducing new challenges. Instead I wanted to make sure I could still dirt jump and do wheelies. Each new year I worry if I've lost any dirt jumping tricks. So I'm always happy to throw the first no-hander of t

The White Room (a short story)

FRIDAY After a short struggle I located Cliff at the airport. It was good to see him again. I had my bag packed and my skis on the rack of my Audi. Instead of going back to my house, we blew past the exit and cruised through Denver. We made a quick stop at a dispensary, then started climbing into the mountains. Five hours later we rolled into the town of Crested Butte. Matt had driven out from Arkansas the day before and we all converged on Kevin’s house. This was a reunion almost thirty years in the making. We pulled into Kevin’s driveway, kid’s bikes and other toys were poking out from the snow in the yard.  A master bedroom had been added to the house, but it still lacked siding, leaving the insulation exposed. Kevin came out to greet us wearing slippers, jeans and a tee shirt. He gave us each a hug. Nice addition Kev, that’s new since the last time I was here. Cliff said. Yeah I started it four years ago, maybe in another four I’ll finish it. Kevin’s just doing what he can to