Rebecca’s Private Idaho: This Cowgirl’s Poem

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 poetry to riding a bicycle. A rhythm. A tempo. The percussion of the chain as it reverbs over terrain, the gear-shift melody, the rattling of a loosening bottle cage in a syncopated tick, which amplifies the verse as it flows through your mind. So. If there is poetry to riding a bicycle, then my style of riding could be classified as pure dirge. A ballad for the …

Rebecca’s Private Idaho, the video

I present to you a short visual memory dump of the first ever Rebecca’s Private Idaho gravel grinder. I hadn’t intended on making a video, but took a bunch of footage in case I changed my mind. Considering I had no real concept for what this might turn into, this cobbled together piece turned out Aok. Footage is all real-time. No FWWD motion for the bits that look fast. I wrote about my experience here And there are photos of the weekend and from the event here Thanks to Olivia and Victor for the company on the drive (and during …

Rebecca’s Private Idaho

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 cages. Skeletons vibrate like tuning forks in our soft, beaten bodies. In the key of E-ouch. “Hey,” I say, looking over at Olivia as she pedals smooth, steady circles, piloting her Crux across the gravel. “Have you ever seen those old ads for the fat loss belt thingie that vibrates your fat away?” Instantly, she knows what I’m talking about and laughs. “Yes.” “How much weight do you think we’ve …