finger

Man, the females were all over me today. What can I say? I’ve just got that special something… blood that is. I made sure to coat myself with repellent, spraying my legs, arms, face, back, clothes, and even my helmet. It worked for about three minutes. The horse flies would land, hesitate for a second, then take off. But for the black flies, it was like I rang the fucking dinner bell. DEET my ass. I’ve been trying to get back into shape. But instead of just chugging along on my bike, continuously feeling seconds away from a stroke, I’ve been stopping to eschew the scenery. The sunset, a pair of fox kits frolicking, a deer poking his head above the high grass, an osprey perched next to its nest platform, in short: riding like a tourist. It’s been good for my soul, but bad for my pot belly. And it attracts clouds of bugs. When I was into photography, I would spend hours and hours laying out in some salt marsh to get one half way decent shot of a fiddler crab. The biting flies didn’t bother me. I‘d just tune them out. Today, I couldn’t take it. Do I have no metal toughness left? When did I become such a pussy? Fuck that. I can take it. Tomorrow I’m getting up early and head out to… OOWEEE!!! I got a finger cramp. Gotta stop.