pointless.

im riding my bike down the pacific coast right now, 300 miles from arcata back home to song of san francisco. its fucking great, better than i scaredely imagined it to be...yesterday soared through 70 miles of every blade of grass times every redwood tree, and baby goats four running away from my metal click click of changing gears. there are hills and sun and thighs unbeleiving, and a beautiful moonpack stripped to essentials, and hoho tight lycra short and zippered jersey why not, why not a sleek machine body for this week za. changed a flat tire in eureka, my whole mind every crack drenched with that quenching flood of activity, physically fandangoing with the material world. so nice to just do not think. this bike this road this tree, blanker and blanker with every wind gust to my face. now a slow back tire leak but fill it up again and i cna go again, fill it up and go go god screaming down a hill on the avenue of giants. this morning still dewy cold and crisp i yelled out loud, yelped it in the wind, so happy IM SO HAPPY! yelled and two deer stumbling up a steep grade of dirt and rock didnt care at all. well good good for them good good.