I cycled to Piestewa this a.m. to hike the hill - mountain I mean (though perhaps a poor excuse for one) -but- Phoenix ain't the rockies -and- hauling my carcass in an upwards direction seems to make for good exercise.
Did the deal (part way, anyway, as last night's margaritas may've become this morning's malaise, turning back 2/3 of the way up) then got on my bike to head back home.
Yes, I wear spandex. Shows off my butt.
Ok, not really, but age and practicality have long overcome propriety. The padded seat greatly diminishes that 'kicked in the nuts' feel after long rides, plus less chafing and snagging on thorny branches, etc.. Any hue...
At the overpass there's a kid with a shopping cart and a dog.
By kid I mean early 20's - a lil' rough around the edges but with these eyes like a Degrazia painting.
Which could've been part of his schtick - oozing soulful vulnerability - only he's not utilizing pathetic appeal to work the cars stopped at the light...
Instead, he's seated and half hidden behind the concrete embankment - trying to comfort the giant effing dog on his lap - pit bull mix of some sort, who is panting and restless - obviously suffering from the heat.
Gave 'em every last drop out of my camelback, poured into the bottom of a plastic water bottle he'd cut in half.
Then went a couple blocks, bought some more water at a gas station and doubled back.
Kid thanked me, said "its more appreciated than you'll ever know" and I had to bolt away before I started to cry.
Which I did, anyway.
And am now, again.
