Touch my Striate Cortex

Cayoosh Pass

I didn't take a picture of Cayoosh Pass while I was riding up it. No, while I was sweating on my bicycle shoes, turning the pedals around in slow, mad circles, while my consciousness slipped and stuttered like a ratchet from the broken farm machinery we always pass on these trips, repeating broken half-thoughts, counting kilometers, while I was climbing Cayoosh, I'm afraid I didn't take any pictures.

But I did stop at the top and turn around: there's Jonathan.

(Actually, I'm being unfair: he rode most of the climb ahead of me, but stopped to put on his jacket as we reached the misty drizzly top, at which point I passed him and aimed the camera backward.)

Please see the fear-inspiring statistics for Cayoosh Pass.

EXIF

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