Keith

Anyone who has read anything I have written knows I just love the sound of my own voice. At the drop of a hat, I can write 1000 words and end up with nothing of any worth.

But I sit silent now, speechess, muted, and stunned into silence as I try to make sense of a great friend's passing.We had so many good times, I cannot find any that stand out over the others. The petty squabbles we had over the 30 plus years we were friends, I counted on one hand. No, make that less than on one hand; maybe as low as one or two. 

Anyway, Keith is gone now. Though I was aware of his health issues, I denied the possibility of his passing as a moment that would occur sooner than later. I guess if we keep moving like nothing has changed, it keeps the worry level down. But in the end, the price of burying that worry can turn really ugly.

I will miss Keith. I will miss his tendency to smile first, look angry way later. It was bikes that first connected us. I will miss even more now, the bike rides we shared over the span of our 30 plus friendship. 

So, I finish with one short tale of a ride we shared at some quarry in Vermont or was it northern New Hampshire?

We were riding on single track that flowed among and around large exposed sections of ledge and quarry cuts. Often, there was not much room between the trail and some kind of drop off, usually not too high. I was 100 feet behind Keith as he entered a hairpin turn that flowed around a huge section of exposed ledge. As we passed each other, Keith on one side, me on the other; he smiles, raises his hand, waves at me, and immediately disappears, gone like he was never there.

I hurried around the turn. He wasn't on the trail anymore. Because of the pucker on each side of the singletrack, all I saw was crushed pucker brush where "the car went off the cliff". I remember a sick feeling as I pulled up at the departure point. Instead of looking down and seeing Keith laying in a heap many feet down, sprawled, broken and sad, he was sitting up and looking at me from maybe10 feet down a short slope.

"Where's my Bike? ....... Find my bike."

I knew in that moment, he was okay. And I started in on him, busting his chops about his chump way of riding. 

He was a better friend than I deserved I am sure. 

R.I.P good friend, R.I.P.

___________________

The one area Keith and I had endless discussions regarding music while we killed time traveling to and from a ride location near or far away. Your band sucks, mine doesn't....... 

Keith was adamant The Doors sucked. He said their music was boring and that Jim Morrison got too much credit. He was just malcontent the chicks were all in love with. I disagreed vehemently. The Doors were and still are on my top 5 Classic Rock list. Mostly though, we agreed on our favorites, even if they may be on different levels on our individual lists. Three artists / bands we definitely agreed on was David Bowie, Neil Young and Queen. In keeping with our mutual passion for all thing Bicycle, please enjoy by turning up to WOW, "Bicycle Race", by Queen.