marina access only

Rolling along the gravel while Ash trots beside me, tongue hanging out after a play at the park. I’ve never ridden a single speed before. It feels…

It feels.

We’re off the path. There are fences here now and signs for new development. At the top of the hill, I see a tire crest, then a head, then a smile. Ash’s tongue bounces. As we pass, there is a nodding of heads, a twinkling of eyes, a shared knowing this wilderness won’t last. We’ll have to take the main road someday. Not today.

Today we’re off the path.