Another Commute to Remember, Better Yet one Not to Forget

I took this bird image the other day under the BOA Corp Center. Another true ride story: Observance of God from the saddle. On Friday morning I left both of my cameras home while I rode out into the pouring rain. The satellite image was definite, the green cold water was going to drop all day and I was too lazy to go to the barn to retrieve my dry bag. I wish I would have for what I did not know that I would see later. Instead I will try to paint the picture with words.

My way out of it at 1415hrs launched in a cold wet clammy Race Face Euro brown coat from the south end is near. Engaged or fooled to foolish actions. It was cold with warming thoughts only of pink orange glowing embers burning in front of me while sitting in a small wood floored room with low ceilings and a sturdy mantle, my den. But instead wetness rolling constant drip at something no more than 38F. Over McAlpine raging on Monroe. Down view from atop the bridge was a fast running creek that looked more powerful than I can ever remember seeing it. Red clay tea, a stop brighter than chocolate milk which I have not consumed in years.

Arrival under the gray skies to Ultimate of Mathews whose friendly staff took care of my business and desire for warmth with a fresh hot plain dark coffee just like Noni used to drink. My frown went completely upside down by the time I put on the cold wet clammy Race Face Euro nothing all over again. The cue for the house after a short stint on Sardis Road takes me on a cut through retail, Planet Fitness and Industrial appearing small to mid sized business brick buildings. Pilgrim. Then down the stairs from there to a spur triple track sand surface trail which leads me to the McAlpine Park Greenway proper.

At the intersection with the actual Greenway where I was familiar and supposed to go right I could not for the raging brown water chest deep running from right to left like Chinese writing over the normally tame weir. It was loud. The sky was a moving gray scale and the rain continued to fall from it on me and the entire region all running down to the low ground where I stood straddling me bike.

Fear combined with intrigue tied in that familiar emotional knot as I saw power clearly in front of me. The wave train I had never seen before flowed well over the pedestrian path on down river for Monroe Road under the old rusted but still serviceable rail road trestle. The white capped waves in the 100 meter long train were two to three feet tall and undulating some dance of gravitational force. Death pinned under debris will escape me today with no attempt to cross. I stared at it for time passing without anyone else in sight save the trees and moving waters.

I realized that I had to figure another route home even if it put me on Independence or caused me to be late getting home. I back tracked out of the low up to Sardis and took Monroe to Village Lake after stopping back in the Shop to give an Intel Report on the status of the over flowing McAlpine creek. I picked my way west and north around through the urban ick to the Greenway well on the other side from where I witnessed the water's rage. It was dark by the time I got to my little neighborhood and I was cold still.