It's possibly better this way, because with this the giant self-wielded death scythe of recursive analysis on this summer can, maybe, finally be tossed in the grass and I can walk away with a clear head. I'm treating this as a stark "moving forward" maneuver, then. The past is in the past, and that is that.
So.... how y'all been?
|Looking north into the humid haze of a blazing August afternoon of gravel riding.|
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