Frozen White Mesa

friends, old and new

winter moonscape singletrack

wind blastin’ through our layers

trail depression is filled with snow

in some places, and others not

knobs sometimes gripping flakes

face is numb, jaw frozen enough

that speech seems to slow

but my hands are warm

why not ride when it’s cold

less people, less traffic

more quiet, more solitude

distance, time, “clean”ing do not matter

when you are soul riding, seeking oneness

with bike, trail, body, mind, spirit

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