Head East. 30 days of biking, #21

Remember the band Head East?

There’s never been any reason to, other than its infectious 1975-era AOR* sound, and yet there are times when the rising sun reminds me of the band’s name, possibly because heading east for any length of time seems like a really bad idea.

East in the morning is when the eye doctor says look at my nose and shines a light into the back of your eyeball, supposedly to check for eye health, but there’s a non-zero chance she just wants to see if you’ll blink.

You’re not going to blink—not during the examination, and not wheeling through the cemetery, playing hide and seek with the sun through the trees.

Hey, I might I’ll get all the way through this turn without getting blinded.

Er, no.

You complete the turn by holding the arc you chose when you could still see the loose rock, the branch and the hole.

They aren’t going to move on their own, so as long as you hold your line, you’ll be fine.

Woman with the sweet lovin’ better than a white line…

Oh great, now that song’s stuck in my head.

Not a single white line in this cemetery.

You know that lyric’s about cocaine and not road striping, right?

What’s your point? It’s catchy.

You know Head East is still touring?

Not by bicycle, they aren’t.

Nope, R.E.O. Speedwagon.

Ba-dah-bum-CHING.

April 21. 11.5 miles.

*Adult-oriented rock

About 16incheswestofpeoria

Former bicycle mechanic, current peruser of books, feeder of birds.
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