There once was a Queen in Idaho
With a penchant for pain, well dontcha know
She put on a race
With gravelly high pace
And we all fell apart like weak so-and-sos.
There’s…
Sick of it. Sick of riding my bike. Just sick of it. Probably not the best frame of mind to be in, a week out from The Death Ride….
You. You are a frivolous person. A frivolous person with frivolous thoughts that spin and cartwheel on the front lawn of your mind. Legs flinging, knees bent, your thoughts…
Prologue: Sixtyish mile mark, time unknown
A crunch of gravel, the sharp ting of small stones against bike underbellies, projectile vomited there by irritated and belligerent tires. Bottles rattle in…