Trail Prospector

The beast was licking at my heals for a while now and as I turned toward its home I was given no more warnings. I was attacked. I peddled toward the mount of the canyon, its home. The beast had tried evoking the rain and snow but I am not afraid of that. Now it bellowed at me with all it’s might. The air howled past my ears and I jammed the bike into its lowest “granny” gear. For hours I peddled against its might, going a half a mile an hour at best. The air rushing past me at 50 miles per hour and the gravel on the road blew against me. Today I would not win and eventually turned to retreat. I rode the beasts roar waves back and I was pushed at high speed down the twisting trail. Finally home now hidden against the boulders. I hunkered down to try again another day.

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