While working on New Bohemians today I ran across this previous post. The quote from Jorge Luis Borges evoked memories: they flashed across my inner travel screen, not in pixels, but in soft amorphous remembered images, scents, labored lungs and heart, sweat soaked, cold shivers; wind cooled and sun warmed. Smiles from faces never to be seen again… I thought I’d re-post. Share.
Colorado in late September. Two best friends, a comfortable motorhome, two bicycles, mountains to pedal up and peak Colorado color. Life is good.
We startled at the flash of a photographer in the middle of the 3,000 foot tunnel before realizing it was Bob, giggling and testing the features of his new camera. Stopping at Frostburg for the night, we enjoyed some trail side pizza—delivered to Turtle in the parking lot—as Mike’s treat.
There have been a very few times in my life when time seemed to slow, if not stand still, and this was one. I could see the car headed for us broad side, in slow motion, too late to brake, to late for our acceleration to help. Neither the driver or us even considered involving the police: He because he was Brazilian and has known all his life to distrust them, and we because we had been warned not to involve police in anything, not even an injury accident.