• Skip to main content
  • Skip to secondary navigation
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Inkabout L. Darby Gibbs

Science Fiction & Fantasy author

  • Home
  • About
  • All Books
  • What I’m (th)Inkingabout
  • Sign up!
  • Contact
  • Annals of the Dragon Dreamer
  • Fifth Flight
  • Standing Stone
  • Solstice Dragon World
  • Kavin Cut Chronicles
  • Non-series books

Tandem Cycling

Along the road: Musing on the past

July 29, 2019 by L. Darby Gibbs

Tandem riding the country roads

We went on a tandem ride today on the local farm roads. There is always something to see, and what is seen changes with not just the season but how deep in the season it is.

We’re at the end of an unusually rainy summer, so the greenery is wild. What was quite visible in the spring is now lost behind wild grape, out-of-control undergrowth and the extravaganza of full-leafed trees.

Hop in; this crane is ready to serve.

There’s a spot we stopped at today that caught my eye because of an abandoned crane next to a cornfield. Rusted, but still holding the crane arm high, its end lost among the limbs of a tree that grew in the course of its frozen moment, the machine appeared to be in pause.

Someone was using the area to store hay rounds, perhaps with the belief the crane could act as guard. Who used this crane and why was it just left there, seemingly ready to charge back to the job? The cab door’s open, hop in.

Just across the street, where we stood in the shade and drank water, we pondered its possible history. Then my husband turned, saying that there were at least three abandoned houses along this stretch, as well. We gazed into the almost impenetrable woods.

“There. I can just see the roof,” he said.

I looked and could not make out any sign of a house. So I stepped closer, peered around a hedge of wild grape. There, not more than fifteen feet off the road stood a wood-frame house, its shingle roof still in fair repair, the siding, an upgrade to what we usually see, was lapboard, its white paint still discernible.

With such a small window of view, I couldn’t take a picture. It was an old home, but its lines were still straight, no lean present. Was it owned by one family for forty years or a turn-style home, with family after family rotating in?

We’d never know, but the wondering and sharing that wonder was enjoyable.

The cows musing on our now and then.

It made me think of the cows we’d seen earlier. They were adults, mostly, used to strange humans trundling along the road, though a tandem did seem to pull at their curiosity. Often the response is to get up and leave, first one then the next and soon the whole small herd exiting at a trot, deeming us some danger to them best left alone.

But this group took it in stride by not striding away, the white-faced ones giving us their full attention.

We’re they wondering what our bone-skinny, white steed was? What our history of existence contained?

They had the time to ponder these things. We did too, and it was a peaceful, enduring gesture, a homage to the past of “who knows.”

Twenty-three miles of “thoughtfulling,” musing on the past, turning it as our wheels turned to see its full round of life. We need to take the time to ponder, to examine what is, was and the possibilities of will be. It’s a peaceful gesture even the cows can appreciate.

Filed Under: Tandem Cycling

Along the road: views off the tandem

June 14, 2019 by L. Darby Gibbs

I love riding our tandem bicycle, and my favorite reason for stopping for a break is to look around for a picture of nature at its most honest and imaginative.

My husband is very accommodating. “I’ll shout (because it’s hard for him to hear with the helmet on, the breeze rushing past, the hum of the bike tires on the road, and the fact that he sits in front of me leaning forward), “That would make a great picture!”

Even the bike needs a rest now and then.

He’ll stop the bike and hold it upright while I get off, reaching for my phone in my jersey’s back pocket.

Trees and water always draw my attention. I look at them with eyes seeking something other than what another person would call just a tree, a flower, a stone, the curve of a stream.

I look for an inimitable perspective, that sudden shift when, with just the slightest prod, fanciful creatures emerge from the mundane.

Look at this tree. There’s an Ent viewed from the side (Please don’t admit you don’t know what one is. Look it up. Hint: Tolkien) standing there with his mouth open, his eyes, rather far back, bulging in surprise. What does he see across the road that startles him so?

A very surprised Ent.

How about this snake in the water? I know they grow big around here, but that’s a serpent of mighty proportions. Yes, yes, I know it could be the edge of a stone ledge under water, but do you see that snake slithering down the stream?!

Snake in the river.

I ride our bike for the joy of spending time with my husband, for the guarantee of returning home with my legs finding it a challenge even to swing over the saddle and step from the bike, and for the jolt it gives my imagination.

My husband plays this game with me: “You rode well today.”

“How far.”

“Not too, far.”

“How far?”

“Less than yesterday (which had me complaining yesterday).”

“And how much less than yesterday.”

“A couple miles.”

My legs starting to remember how to walk, I say, “Oh, well, that explains why I was able to get off the bike without my glutes giving way to a spasm.”

We’ve been unable to ride together for about a month due to the need to replace important components on our tandem. I should say, I’ve been off the bike. He’s been training for track racing on his track bike. I’m the one needing to get my muscles back in shape.

It’s amazing how just four weeks make a world of difference. I have been doing exercises to stay strong, but you really need to be on a bike to keep the muscle memory. So 32 miles the first day out was rather taxing. And 29.6 a day later was pushing my back-pedaled limit.

I don’t really mind. The loggy feel of my legs is a pleasure. Almost. It is the views and the companionship and the opportunity to just daydream that makes that feeling welcome. It reminds me all day of the images I saw. They stew in my mind, generating stories. What will I see tomorrow? Can my legs take that extra two miles?

What’s the activity that feeds your muse or satisfies your mind’s eye?

Filed Under: Tandem Cycling, Writing Meditations

Primary Sidebar

Blog post categories

  • Book Reviews (14)
  • Dogs (9)
  • Health (12)
  • My Publishing Worlds (77)
  • Office (1)
  • Programs related to writing (18)
  • Sailing adventures (2)
  • Tandem Cycling (2)
  • Tuesday prompts (65)
  • Uncategorized (40)
  • Writing habits (14)
  • Writing Meditations (184)

Footer

Find me on social media.

  • Facebook
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

Content Copyright ~ Inkabout Publishing 2024. All rights reserved.

Links

Books I recommend

Amazon author page

Barnes & Noble author page

Kobo author page

Smashwords author page

Apple author page

Search Inkabout site

Newsletter Privacy Policy

Inkabout Privacy policy

Copyright © 2025 · Author Pro on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in