Made it all the way through the sunrise, my morning routine, and even a groggy round of KZ2 before I started feeling a ride coming on. Guess it was as good a chance as any.
Threw some tools and a tuna rice ball in my mess bag, and pointed the Langster like a missile silo towards the edge of town. Took the winding Asahi River north, under the Sanyo and into the mountains. I'd almost forgotten how incredible the asphalt can feel, when completely removed of distraction; the persistent hazards and vehicular obstructions in this nigh-inescapable jungle of concrete. There's a very distinct comfort found through exertion--a slow unwind back to sanity in watching the white lines streaming beneath.
[click to enlarge]
follow the Asahi
eastern outskirts
bamboo passage
sense in a single
30 serendipitous kilometers and I still made it back in time for breakfast. Perfect.
I really need to fly internationally more often.
2 contributions to this piece:
looks like tatoo on your leg,right?
haha yeah man. New one.
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