Playing In The Dirt Again
I am chasing Barry down another rarely-travelled unpaved road out in east central Georgia, barely able to make out his silhouette ahead of me from the cloud of red clay and gravel dust he and others ahead of him are kicking up. I’m alternating between sitting and standing, bouncing and sliding along about 45 mph, hard on the little 300’s throttle, trying to keep them at least vaguely in sight. I am telling myself, audibly at times, “Relax, breathe, keep a loose grip on the grips, let the bike float and move beneath you. You’re doing fine.”
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