Holy Crap, Is It Friday Already?

Time flies when you’re having…well, it flies, anyway.

Speaking of stuff that flies:

I saw that hawk in Van Cortlandt Park a few days ago while out on my Rivendell. What day was it exactly? I couldn’t begin to tell you. But I do love a good hawk sighting–though I’ll never come close to taking a hawk photo this good ever again:

Isn’t nature wonderful?

Alas, humans in pursuit of the sensation of flight are rarely so compelling. In fact, they can be downright horrific:

Yes, that’s me, sometime in the 1990s, just as I was descending into roadiedom. I’d probably just started racing as a Cat 5 at this point, and you can see my quill stem is duly “slammed.” Of course my first instinct upon seeing this photo is to cringe at my pallid skin and Fredly appearnace, but on closer inspection I’ve got to give myself credit for cost-cutting with those cheap plastic wraparound shades, and to be completely honest I kind of wish I still had that bike.

Never get rid of a bike.

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