There are these moments after a long session on the dirt bike, when everyone else has packed up and gone, things are quiet and the day is ending. The constant barrage of "braap, braap", silenced, the jostling, up down, elbows and knees bending in time to the bumps and whoops, over. Gear is coming off, piece by piece, the perspiration evaporating and Monday coming quick but not yet. And your whole body just hums.
I don't know how else to describe it. An electric hum, low level vibration barely detectable running throughout. Partially, maybe the onset of exhaustion, or shock at the pounding you just inflicted on yourself, but there's more to it than that, like the calm after the storm and before the next one. A brief interlude prior to thoughts rushing back in a filthy deluge. A peace.
I like to sit on the tailgate and soak it in, until the hum begins to subside. Moving power indeed.
|The end of the day, with nothing left but memories and mud. And the Hum|