magazine clutch

I
ride it a few times, forcing myself
to be light on the bars, to let the
front tire follow the terrain, to steer
with my knees rather than my arms.
Speeding up, I aim for a sharp crest I
previously avoided. I roll on the throttle
to transfer weight to the rear wheel and
hit hard. I clear it, only to realize that there’s
a bigger rock on the other side. Gravity and
momentum pitching in, I hit that one even
faster, and I feel the bike leave the ground.
Throw my weight left, ride it out, and then
skid my rear tire to a stop. This is what you
call a turning point. By the third morning,
the bike feels dialed in. The air is cold on
the patch of neck my suit and helmet leave
exposed. I ride paved roads from mountain
to mountain, and the bike is happy on the
blacktop: dancing through the tar-snakes on
the farm-lined back roads. Off-road, headed
up a rock-and-mud slope, I push a little too
hard and almost lose it a few times. Almost.
22 CLUTCH December 2020