|One of 600 tiles in "Words Over Water" at Tempe Town Lake|
As I read some of the tiles in the "stone book" set into the top of the wall while cycling around Tempe Town Lake on this week's semi-extended, hot weather edition TCT, this one struck me square in the neurons, and I decided immediately: if water is gravity's dog, following it everywhere, then I am gravity's cat. Me-ow.
|This looks like a John Randall Nelson, of Anthropomorphic Bicyclist fame|
Gordy's shot of this on his Tri-City Art Ride post reminded me that I wanted to head down to Tempe to see some more of John Randall Nelson's sliced up signage art. My usual TCT route most often takes me around the North side of Tempe Town Lake, but seeing that picture on the sprockets blog inspired me to ride the length of the south side of the lake, straight into a hot 103F, 5% humidity 15-20mph headwind. Riding across the river / lake on the Rural Road bridge with that wind blowing straight sideways disconcerted me. Ever feel like that, riding next to a railing, looking down at a river or freeway below a bridge, and the wind gusting and shoving you around a bit, with cars wizzing by on your left (separated by a low wall in this case, but still)?
|Unless the hot crosswind just blows you off the Priest Drive bridge, then at least try to land in the water|
Today the wind was my neighbor's dog. Not the stoic, silent, wait-for-master by the front door type of faithful companion, but the big, slobbery, jump up in your face and knock you down and smell you in embarrassing places type that ends up ripping your new jersey with his untrimmed front claws. Not on purpose, he means well, and he's just being a dog, but, yeah. And the kicker is, he couldn't swim if his life depended on it. Someone needs to teach that dog how to doggie paddle.
|This came in handy today, very cold water, acceptable taste and no odor. You can even take a sink bath|
if you like a mid-ride freshening up.
Gravity's cat likes to let gravity think it's the master. It rubs up against gravity's leg, purrs, and flops down on the carpet at gravity's feet, rolls around playfully, and lulls gravity into a sense of peaceful ease, then BAM! Out come the claws, and gravity doesn't know what hit him.
Of course, it also occurred to me that I am mostly water, although a constantly decreasing percentage on a dessicating ride like this one, so I am mostly gravity's dog, although I'm not certain that chemical content transfers metaphorical sense. But I am most definitely not gravity's female dog, at least not on today's ride. Even in the heat, the moderate hills that I rode around Papago, I told gravity: I am not your female dog. I am your kitty cat. Which caused gravity to smile, and rub me behind the ear before pouring me a bowl of my favorite kibbles. Mmmm, gravity kibbles. Get up. Go ride.