pcflvly
Well-known member
I woke from a rock solid sleep at my camp in a centuries old quarry now thickly forested, the ground mattressed in a thick layer of pine needles. I arose with the sun and, with the gift of an eagle feather, spread my wings to fly.
I was immersed in beauty. There was nature itself but also the art of the stone master who made his home there. There were finely crafted walls, single rock pillars making a Stonehenge of a firepit, and hearts carved from the heart of the land. I was in the realm of an elemental wizard.
This kingdom guarded the entrance to a portal that would transport me to the capital of Rhode Island but it was not an easy traverse.
The first six miles were of rough gravel and that mounded in humps with a short crest of only about eight feet between peaks and a drop of three feet between them. I rode up and down on these for miles. Where there weren't humps there were mud holes. Long stretches of three to five inch deep water completely across the trail. One of these mudholes was a hundred yards long. I rode through it. There was brush on the trail too. Some I could just ride over and others I had to go around.
The best portals are difficult to enter like that but I survived the translation and materialized onto a freshly paved route that led all the way to West Providence.
There were three men smoking beside the trail, two in electric scooters. Brett, Matt, and Jared. On this path, begun so magically, they were obviously ascended masters. We talked brotherhood. We experienced brotherhood. They filled my pipe and I rode on.
To say that this route was indeed profound is no stretch of a metaphor. It wasn't the first time that I'd traveled immersed entirely in nature only to pop out in the heart of urbanity. Even though it was simply a trail, it was in truth a path kindred to the routes that carried me from forest to the center of Georgetown and the one I flew down into Minneapolis. Among others...
So there I was all of a sudden on the edge of Providence and the first place of business was a coffee and bike shop. It wasn't a fancy $6,000 bike shop either but rather tribe. They received me as their own and gave me a brake lever cover that I needed. Then they fed me pizza. In turn, I gave stories from the Greenway and tips on bike core life.
I rode the rest of the way into the city then and came upon a peace vigil. There were only four people but two were young and the older two were saying, "It's nice to see young people out doing this."
By the way if you're young, you might never have seen a peace vigil. It's easy. Make a readable sign and hold it up in a place where lots of people can see it. It's your body there and your time given to encourage peace and to remind people that peace is in the realm of the possible.
The route out of Providence followed the Blackstone river both on and off road. I found a place to camp below trail and above the Blackstone. There was a defiled homebum camp partway back with lots of trash and uncovered feces but beyond the end of the path to this, it was more or less pristine. I strung my hammock and reclined surrounded by wild turkeys in the nearby glades.
I was immersed in beauty. There was nature itself but also the art of the stone master who made his home there. There were finely crafted walls, single rock pillars making a Stonehenge of a firepit, and hearts carved from the heart of the land. I was in the realm of an elemental wizard.
This kingdom guarded the entrance to a portal that would transport me to the capital of Rhode Island but it was not an easy traverse.
The first six miles were of rough gravel and that mounded in humps with a short crest of only about eight feet between peaks and a drop of three feet between them. I rode up and down on these for miles. Where there weren't humps there were mud holes. Long stretches of three to five inch deep water completely across the trail. One of these mudholes was a hundred yards long. I rode through it. There was brush on the trail too. Some I could just ride over and others I had to go around.
The best portals are difficult to enter like that but I survived the translation and materialized onto a freshly paved route that led all the way to West Providence.
There were three men smoking beside the trail, two in electric scooters. Brett, Matt, and Jared. On this path, begun so magically, they were obviously ascended masters. We talked brotherhood. We experienced brotherhood. They filled my pipe and I rode on.
To say that this route was indeed profound is no stretch of a metaphor. It wasn't the first time that I'd traveled immersed entirely in nature only to pop out in the heart of urbanity. Even though it was simply a trail, it was in truth a path kindred to the routes that carried me from forest to the center of Georgetown and the one I flew down into Minneapolis. Among others...
So there I was all of a sudden on the edge of Providence and the first place of business was a coffee and bike shop. It wasn't a fancy $6,000 bike shop either but rather tribe. They received me as their own and gave me a brake lever cover that I needed. Then they fed me pizza. In turn, I gave stories from the Greenway and tips on bike core life.
I rode the rest of the way into the city then and came upon a peace vigil. There were only four people but two were young and the older two were saying, "It's nice to see young people out doing this."
By the way if you're young, you might never have seen a peace vigil. It's easy. Make a readable sign and hold it up in a place where lots of people can see it. It's your body there and your time given to encourage peace and to remind people that peace is in the realm of the possible.
The route out of Providence followed the Blackstone river both on and off road. I found a place to camp below trail and above the Blackstone. There was a defiled homebum camp partway back with lots of trash and uncovered feces but beyond the end of the path to this, it was more or less pristine. I strung my hammock and reclined surrounded by wild turkeys in the nearby glades.
