You know how on that one holiday you wake up early to see what that spirit everyone calls Santa has left you? Well, maybe it was because someone told me the lie was untrue. Or just maybe I plane just forgot. I tend to think it is what I  do when my eyes come open in the morning. I want to go riding.

And now that we were in a place that allows riding. As opposed to the hell of the North where it was below zero and 3 feet of snow. No, here it was in the 50s and the sun was coming up. No snow … just dirt. I’m riding damn it.

I pulled my bike out of the car and gave it a once-over. It had not been ridden for three months. Not since that devil dust started to fall up north. It looked good so I swung a leg over and started to pedal up the hill.

Soon I found a fitness path … and off of that, a single track called Owens Trail. As the trial unfolded before my eyes a grin also started to spread.

I am not saying it was all glee. Well, maybe it was. But I was soon educated on how my skills had gone to the wayside living up north. But that is okay.

So maybe I walked a couple of sections. But overall this experience fit like a glove.

I topped out on a high point and figured I had better turn around. I would save the rest for the days to come. I had to get back. Because it was that one holiday everyone wakes up to see what Santa, that devious devil, would bring everyone “stuff”.

I bombed back down the trail excited to begin our vacation. Soon my wings got strong and the wind lifted me off the ground. I was flying. Finally after so long. And I flew off to the horizon.