The alarm awakens me from a deep sleep. Mechanically,
I flipped the alarm off and resume sleeping. A few minutes later, my dog awakes
me panting and frantically pacing back and forth. I arise, and let him out
and head for the coffee pot. Half asleep, I fill the pot to 10 cups, grind
and scoop in the designated mg’s of caffeine, (strong,) and then head
to the bathroom.
I hear the coffee perking in the background.
I insert my contacts, and my vision becomes a little
clearer. Foggy, but regaining cognitive thought, I dress for the ride. Shorts.
Knee warmers. Socks. Long sleeve jersey. Jacket. Gloves. Clear glasses.
A hiss emulates from the kitchen. The caffeine has
been eluted with water from the grinds and conveniently collected in a pot.
I head towards the kitchen and pour a large mug of the dark, aromic juice.
Add a little cream. Stir. Fill my head.
The coast down from house into the town of Ned is cold.
The bank sign is alternating between 47 degrees and 5:58 a.m. I forgo the
usual path through Old Town, and instead head up the Freak to Freak and take
the turn-off to Eldora. Up High School, to Ammo Box and down to Mongolia.
I-70, to Lake Olaf and then up to the Mine. Down to the Path, across the aqueduct,
and to the Beach. The Meadow is damp, and the tires hook and carve. I am fully
awake. My head is clear, and yet my mind wonders. Thoughts of the day’s
activities present themselves. Challenges not fully addressed in the office
emerge, and I think of how to attack them. Riding clears my mind. It makes
me real.
Eventually, I end up again on the Freak to Freak. I
pedal North, then East on Hwy. 72. About 5 miles down, I take a left and head
up County Road 97. I pass Lazy Z and the mailboxes on my right. I think of
my friends, and that perhaps I might see them today as I am close to 7:30
a.m.
I pass the trailhead on my left, and then the 3-horse
stable on my right. A car slowly approaches from behind.
Timmy P. slows down and opens the window.
"Have you heard the news? Do you know what’s
going on?"
"No." I reply to both questions with one
word.
"Two planes have struck the World Trading Center
in New York!! Both buildings are on fire, and it’s total chaos!"
"No fucking way!" I reply and then notice
that Timmy’s daughter is in the back seat. "I mean, what is going
on?"
"Don’t really know," Timmy P. replies.
"I just turned on the radio when I got in the car, and this is what was
on."
We talk for a minute or two, and then he departs on
down the hill. What the hell is going on?
A few minutes later, at the base of the dirt road climb
to the pavement, a truck approaches from the opposite direction and slows
down. The driver opens the window and shouts at me, "Hey!! Have you heard
what’s going on?"
"Yes," I reply. "Two planes have hit
the WTC."
"Yeah, but now the Pentagon is on fire!!! The
shit is going down!"
Stunned, I continue the ride. What else is there to
do?
I continue down the hill to Canyon. Take the 4-mile
bike bath and hit town. No big ring today, the middle will do. Half cadence.
Somber faces in commuter cars at stoplights, all with
ears bent towards car speakers. Dazed. Confused. Glossy-eyed.
I arrive at work and immediately feel the pain. Gathered
around a radio, my co-workers strain to hear the unbelievable news. A fourth
plane has crashed in rural PA. More pain. Anxiety. Anguish. How much more
to come?
After about an hour of ear blood, I hit the shower.
The hot water feels good, but my body and mind are still numb.
How could this happen? Is this real?
Back at my desk, I try and get more information but
it seems like everyone in the U.S. is doing the same.
Connection timed out.
A little before lunch, the Oasis Annex across the street
provides visual and liquid access. The video feed seems surreal. Repeatedly,
a fast moving dark shadow in the shape of an aircraft plunges implodes into
the WTC.Fire. Flames. Panic.
Thoughts turn to my wife and my daughter. What if that
had been me?
A few days pass, and yet the feeling of unbelievable pain and anguish lingers. I have still been riding to work in the mornings, and yet these mornings rides are failing to bring me the peace and composure I depend on. I need to think clearly, and my morning ride provides a portal for this to happen. However, my vision has been distorted. My ride has been compromised. My life has been forever changed.
by Marcus Luscher