Through the looking glass of Rando Imperator

How long has it been since we last rode our bikes, and woke up at dawn, how long has it been since we last went far? How long since we took the last pouring rain, and we found ourselves on the verge of tears after we took the wrong way over and over, how long has it been since we heard nothing but the friction of our wheels on the gravel in the woods? How long has it been since we have been the only sound in the woods, and we almost felt like apologizing for that: we wanted to apologize to the woods, to the mountain, to nature itself, even to time, for having had so much of it, and not having made a thing of it. How long has it been since we passed through trees with our bikes, through mountains, through boundaries, frontiers, how long has it been since we pushed ourselves to the limit of what we are capable of? Are we still capable of going such a long way?

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