The Watcher in the Water

   Few bikes out on the northern corridor of U.S. Route 3 today...in fact--judging from the wide berths and looks I got as I labored up the the lower ramparts of prospect mountain--I may have been the one. Winter excersize is a topic of extremes; either to hot and sweaty (dangerous) or wind chill thrashes your core and it becomes survival. Today I was blessed with a perfect balance, acquired by tuning to senses..
    Ernest Shackleton and the 20-odd survivors of the shipwreck, HMS Endurance certainly didn't wear deoderant, and for serious outdoor enthusiasts I might suggest it is an afterthought if even a care. The body sends information along many paths, but as I rode today it was the first time I got a chemical message to slow down...from my arm pit! I was torquing up to Week's State Park from Lancaster, NH and I caught the sudden scent of me. Normally, I do not notice and it is my hope that others are similarly oblivious, but the smell was sharp, and kind of intruded on my rhythm. At the same instant another sense, hearing this time, beckoned me toward a delightful crinkling, splashing sound away to my right. Intincts and senses are interwoven and the dounble punch found me turning through and over the black-burg roadside crust and skittering accross a crunchy plain to the source of the sound:

Watcher in the Water

 From this gurgling cascade I found sound to ease my mind, and discovered quite a rapidly diminishing heart rate along with the peace. It was not until I got home that I saw the almost Orc-like face peering back at me from place no man could lay. I v-logged some very cold thoughts (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIYUswLwhgo) , overcame a decidedly imbalanced urge to jump in and got back on the road. (More to come...)