A Flat Tire day

Slowing down in life is a hard thing, even when you plan it.  With all apologies to Edward Abbey, getting drunk in the afternoon is one way to slow things down.  After my obligatory ride which turned into a "I'm going to ride every trail on Hawes in one try" ride, I rode the townie to the bar to have some fish taco's and a few beers.  With nothing much to watch in my own corner of the bar, I split my concentration between the Masters tournament, a Diamndback game, the trivia monitor, and random conversations from 2 separate parties behind me.  One party was dominated by a woman with an annoying voice and I'm quite certain, she talked the entire time they were there....I was thankful they left.  The other party, were Canadians....and although they did not play golf, they were rooting for some guy named Tiger.  Listening to them drone on and on about Tiger and golf made me resent the game....not that I have a reason to.  As I viewed the perfectly manicured course with it's beautiful flowers, hedges and greens, a thought occurred to me.....it'll never be as beautiful as this.

Realizing the folly of my ways, I cashed out and headed back home on the townie to grab my other bike, my dog, a camera and a bottle of tequila.  Having already ridden for the day...I just wanted to spend some time looking at natural beauty, spreading mirth and enjoying the show.  This time of year, the desert is awash in gold........

Setting up on a natural rock cairn, across from the start of the mudflaps climb on Hawes; I ambushed riders as they stopped to catch their breaths before the climb....and offered them a shot of gold colored mirth.....

Not many takers were found....I can't blame them....as they mostly shook their heads or were generally disgusted by the thought of an ounce of tequila in their gut as they went anaerobic on the climb up mudflaps. Still, if I were to happen upon a stranger in the desert offering me a glass of gold...I'd take it as a sign and abide....but I digress.  Graham, was pretty excited though....offering a chance for me to zone out and snap beautiful pictures....he, alerting me to each new rider before I could even hear the sound of them approaching.

But even he was distracted when he started sniffing around and realized there were packrats under the rock pile we were on....which meant lots of pawing, squeezing into spaces and poking his nose into things a bit too far.  If you've ever seen a desert packrat den, then you know they protect it with cholla balls to keep coyote's and other like-minded hunter mammals out.  Graham being the neophyte to the ways of the pack rat, required me to pull some barbs from his nose...but was generally un-phased by the experience and went right back to hunting.....

On the ride back home, I got a flat which forced me to walk it back home.  Having not carried any of my usual tools with me, I pushed this useless 2-wheeled contraption up the hill where, my even slower pace than before was now rewarded.  The sight of a Harris Hawk above me, circling on an invisible updraft captured my imagination....a swallow diving down on it not even entering into the the Hawk's equation.  The beauty of the ocotillo's around me, covered in a verdent fuzz only seen after hard rains, topped with fabulous plumes of red; their ever-present spines, hidden underneath.

The flowers of Cholla, illuminated by the fading light of day...this was the magic hour for the camera....the individual grains of pollen, back-lit through pedals of gold.....

When I got home, I realized that I forced myself to slow down this day....and then, as if not enough....life in the form of a flat tire, forced me to slow down some more.  These may not be the dog day's of summer, but the languid form those days take should be emulated from time to time.