Since I was out riding by myself on a rainy day, there was no one to take pictures of but the motorcycle.
As the mountain was transformed in the ‘90s, so was my life in that time, uprooted and unfamiliar. It was raining steadily in the spring of 1996, already years after moving from the old house, when it struck me I should throw care to the wind and ride the mountain again.
The quiet sound of rain on tree, leaf and puddle was my only company as I motorcycled up muddy roads. Following unfamiliar paths, I was excited to happen upon a narrow, scenic trail leading to a sudden vista from boulders I’d never seen before.
by Jason Abbott