Mountain Bike (Advanced Writing Workshop Timed Freewrite)

October 27

That was really something special. Big, fluffy flakes falling all around us. Climbing elevation into deeper and deeper snow yet we never slowed our pace. We never worried about getting in over our heads. It went by so fast. Before I knew it we were on our way back, covered in mud. I remember you snapping that picture at the pass. The lookout was rendered a blank, gray canvas by snow flurries. You had a huge smile on your face.
I’m still muddy. But now it’s dried into clumps and water stains. I’m pretty stiff too. Let me know when you ready to head out again. I just need a little air.

November 19 

Congratulations! You’re actually doing it. You’ve been talking about grad school forever. All those times we laid at the top of Evergreen Mountain and talked to God about it. You kept asking how you were going to do it. I was beginning to think you were all talk… I’m glad you proved me wrong. We’ve always made it through the rough stuff. And even if we didn’t; we got back up. We should get out and celebrate.

November 25 

So good. Thanks for letting me come along with you and your mom. I can see where you get your love for the outdoors. She didn’t seem to mind the cold at all. Just picked up her pace and soaked in the views. Too bad we couldn’t have stayed out longer. The wind wasn’t that bad, and the mud didn’t bother me.

December 25 

I heard you and the family this morning. Sounded great. The kid’s excitement was obvious. Good job, dad. So, are you taking any time off? Maybe before school starts we could head out together. It’s been awhile. You walk by and don’t even look at me. Just the other day you reached right over me and didn’t seem to notice I was there. I’m caked with mud; it’s not the best thing for me, you know. Well, merry Christmas.

January 27

I saw you got your skis out this morning. How was it? Be honest. Probably wasn’t too bad; you took the kids with you. Look, we need to talk. It’s been over a month and I’m still dirty. And I need some air. All this is not good for me. We could talk on the way to work. It doesn’t have to be a big thing. Maybe just on the way to the store. I’d be okay if the kids came along.
I remember when you were committed. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 6:30 am. I could set a watch by it. Those cold mornings before the sun broke the horizon, we saw deer and elk, but never a single other person. Don’t you miss those times? Don’t you miss playing on rocks, racing down trails, staring out at distant peaks and deep forests?

March 17 

Have you just given up? I think you’re purposely ignoring me. I see you went skiing today. You just threw your wet gear on the floor in front of me and walked away. No hello. No smile. Did you even enjoy skiing?
Are you enjoying anything? I see you staring at the wall a lot. And you’ve got to take it easy on the kids. They’re just kids, you know? Maybe we should all get outside for a bit. We could head down to the park.

April 15 

So now I’m not allowed in the house? I mean it’s a nice shed, you did a nice job. But come on… I’ve always been inside with you. You know what they say, “Out of sight, out of mind.”
Have you noticed days are getting longer? Maybe we could get away for an early morning. I just need a little air. I don’t even mind being dirty. Let me know. Okay?