Dirty Kanza 200: A Meditation on Self

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 less perfect with each rotation. Less complete and full. This gravel is onto you. It’s not stupid. It sees your nerves as easily as if they were strung across this road at foot-tripping, shin height. That armadillo husk, cracked and desiccated, melon-ball empty like some hollowed-out canoe—it is onto you. It mocks you. You too, it says, shall be a hollowed out shell at the end. Consider this a warning. You. …

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 …