A Sunday Epic

February 7, 2012


Alarm bells sounded
in my dream
I did my best to sleep
But a hand reached in and grabbed my ankle
Dragged me through the same routine
Cold air filled my lungs
Felt like I slept for months
Hypnotised by repetition
Living without living at all
Fresh air brought a sense of smell
Renewed my strength
But the pins and needles hurt my feet
As I walked from an interrupted dream
And to look back now
I can only see those streets in black and white
I never found the rainbow’s end
But at least I found a better place without you

McConnell invited me out on a back roads, gravel and singletrack ‘cross fest with some hardcore mountain bike masochists a few weeks ago. The theme song for this ride is brought to you by England’s Guns and Wankers, a punk band comprised of members of another English punk band called Snuff, and from an album called ‘For Dancing and Listening’, which we would play, non stop, for days on end, back when I had a huge blonde afro, lived on beans and rice, and worked in bike shops. I’ve highlighted the appropriate lyrics so that you, dear reader, might also connect with the uncanny relationship between this song and what riding 140k in below zero temperatures was like.

Cruisin north of Cochrane, AB

Gel stop and south to town for lunch

“This one time we lost a couple of guys to a pack of wolves.”

I needed a blow torch to get my shoes off, but hey, there was beer and pizza in my future.