The Collins ride.

This is a little late, but we have had some really good Monday night rides this fall.

We've been seeing the sun go down a bit earlier each ride, and we've been rolling essentially at sunset. The two rides that stand out in my mind we accomplished the two weeks prior to going to gravel rides. Each time we had six riders, and each time, we were able to spend several miles in sync - in a real paceline. We were riding in the amber-golden sun, with our long shadows cast across the highway, each of us spaced evenly, quietly gliding along the smooth pavement. No one talked, or tried to fly off the front, and no one died off the back. We just really cruised - in a peaceful and communal way. I could imagine the view from the sunward side of things - six riders, each in colorful kits, on colorful bikes, riding past fields of sunflowers and tall green corn, legs circling with still heads and shoulders, each with a different feeling, hopefully each with a real sense of joy at living in these fleeting and glorious moments.

Unless you've done it, you can't imagine the feeling. Rolling solo in the moment is one thing, but to do it with good friends - man. I wish I could take you there. I ride for the moments like this that I can cherish, because I earned them and because they pay me back every time I replay them in my mind.

I have told friends that I'm a bicycling evangelist, and some of the more hard-core Christians among them have not understood what I mean - but these rides have had me closer to my God than I've ever been in church, and for those of you concerned about my soul - that's fine with me, and my Creator.

Micah.