You know, there are no more gas stations that actually work on cars. Every station I run across with bay doors for car repair looks like this:
And all the ones that are open look like this:
An long timer joined me sitting on the stoop of the above store and explained it to me: “It’s the fault of computers. When cars went from points to computers it got too complicated to figure out.”
Good an answer as any. And touring cyclists don’t have cars and we enjoy snacking, so it works for us.
I follow my senses.
This quiets my mind,
and drops me
on the threshold
of the big emptiness.
My little toe crosses the threshold
and finds it isn’t empty.
I’ve been looking at the face of the clock.
Here live all laws of physics and math;
fibonacci curves, fractals, calculus.
The structure creation and destruction
of the beauty
my senses perceive.
Ghosts from the past.
The Adventure Cycling Network routes cyclists through this town. To accomodate them, this library has installed a public bike repair station in front. Gerald Barns, whose company is painting the library to improve the community, models.