A Fixed Madness

It's hard to focus on the beautiful landscape as pedals are a complete blur. Thoughts begin to wander toward the phrase "breaking off more than you can chew." My pedals propelled by my legs and the forces of fixed momentum have melted into a streak of controlled chaos. My current predicament finds me on one of the longest steepest hills I have ever seen and on a machine with one gear that is fixed and no brake. The town of Durango, Colorado looms in the distance but thoughts are dilated toward the task at hand, survival. The flat black paint on the frame reflects the strain on my face perfectly. My confident facade has melted along with my calf muscles. A fixed gear bicycle is a beautiful two wheeled invention. Unencumbered by design constraints a fixed gear can morph into myriad of styles, colors, and genres. This concept of being unencumbered translates into the fact that one does not need to bare the weight of a choice during the ride. No shifting, no braking, no coasting. Only the forces acted on a drive train by legs baring the potentiality or maybe stupidity of energy. No other type of cycling requires my undivided attention and thus none is more beautiful to me. This is why I find myself flying down a mountain in Southwestern Colorado. Before my legs fill completely with lactic acid and fail to respond to the synapses in my cerebral cortex the hill begins its transition to a run out on the valley floor. My adrenal glands have given me a natural boost to go along with my Rocky Mountain high as I slow my pedals to a bearable pace. I turn my head to look at the monster looming behind me. Before I can think about the serious gradient percentages I just encountered I find myself turning around and pedaling back up hill. Time to do more introspective experimentation I guess.