Out on the open highway his journey found its tempo, its rhythm, its pulse. Every day on a bike has its own feel, and today a natural feeling sense of urgency had him riding fast. Carrying speed into corners and leaning steep with the bike as it swung through turns steady as a pendulum swings. Putting miles behind him felt satisfying. Little time was spent behind traffic, as he could pull around and charge past vehicles in the lawful range with a roaring casualness. Between traffic he inhaled the ribbon of asphalt between 80-100 with a low, steady, a deadly calm pulse. Like tying shoelaces in the dark. 

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