It's Slow Going....

                                      On Moving Slow

I move slow. I can get out of camp in less than an hour now and even faster if I didn't need to eat. I always wake up feeling  hungry. I stopped drinking coffee because I can't be bothered. I'm on the road by 6:00 AM but can't make 30 miles by noon. By 9:00 AM it's 85 degrees with 90% humidity.

I just can't move.... All  I think about is Gatorade poured over ice.  I  try to pedal but feel like I've been shot at and missed and shit at and hit!

So, I wait it out. With a little luck, I can find myself under the shade of some Hickories by a pond or creek. I can watch dragonflies playing over the water.  Eastern tiger swallow tails and the Red spotted Purple butterfly drift on soft breezes. The canopy of the Cumberland plateau is alive!  The song and calls of flycatchers, vireos and chickadees fill the silence. There is a witching hour when the bird song gives way to the drone of cicadas. There are over 150 species in North America. 
Observing the slowness of  the world takes my mind off the heat and humidity. I don't  get much cycling done while laying in a hammock. I don't cover many miles. But I do get to observe, indeed be part of the Great Geologic Passage of Time. Where it seems like nothing happens. Yet, everything happens. There was an era when "passing" the time was an art. I'm not going to set land speed records like some of my Olympian counter-parts. Then again, if I was in a hurry, I'd be sitting in a steel cage encased in glass and plastic. The birds, butterflies, trees and creeks would be hurtling past at an unbearable pace. I'd hardly notice them at all. That just won't do.


Thanks for reading...