Biking
 

newest edit responding to John R. once more is to condense these three lines into one new Line 11:
[a bouldered stream that drifted the clear,
but cenote-green water of the Hill Country
over tumbled gravel beneath wisps of cloud.]

Version 3 with a new title and seven additional lines attempting some frisson

Riding the High Range

The back road into Dripping Springs
served up a natural batch of breath
and sweat drafting with us in the slipstream
that trailed each cyclist who took the lead.
The brew, purified by solar rays, was
savory with asphalt, scrub cedar and live
oak, lime stone outcrops and cutaways,
soft shoulders of crushed shale, and,
under a vintage, slightly arching bridge
of mortared stones with mossy faces,
a Hill Country stream running cenote-green.
Ahead, the quads would ache climbing, grinding
then, vistas of descent open when gliding,
passing white-fenced fields of horses, where,
was told, outlaws and Comanches rode.
We made it into town by ten for brunch.
There was a little boy at a window table, staring.
He must have seen us wheeling in to park,
removing helmets, and tipping water bottles up
to splash faces and sharp-shoot squirts perfectly
to mouths—still staring, jaw slightly dropping,
at this color-wheel of cowboys in black shorts.

newest edit: title changed from "Sharing the Lead" to "The Ease of Descending" and then to "Coming Down Easy"
version 2

Coming Down Easy

The back road into Dripping Springs
served up a natural batch of breath
and sweat drafting with us in the slipstream
that trailed each cyclist who took the lead.
The brew, purified by solar rays, was
savory with asphalt, scrub cedar and live
oak, limestone outcrops and cutaways,
soft shoulders of crushed shale, and,
under a vintage, slightly arching bridge
of mortared stones with mossy faces,
a bouldered stream that drifted the clear,
but cenote-green water of the Hill Country
over tumbled gravel beneath wisps of cloud.
Ahead, the quads would ache climbing, grinding,
then, vistas of descent open when we were gliding,
passing white-fenced fields of horses, where,
tales get told, outlaws and Comanches rode.


version 1

Sharing the Lead

The back road into Dripping Springs
served up a natural batch of breath
and sweat drafting with us in the slipstream
that trailed each cyclist who took the lead.
The brew, purified by solar rays, was
savory with asphalt, scrub cedar and live
oak, lime stone outcrops and cutaways,
soft shoulders of crushed shale, and,
under a vintage, slightly arcing bridge
of mortared stones with mossy faces,
a bouldered stream that drifted the clear,
but cenote-green water of the Hill Country
over tumbled gravel beneath wisps of cloud.
Ahead, the quads would ache climbing, grinding
then, vistas of descent open when gliding,
passing white-fenced fields of horses, where,
was told, outlaws and comanches rode.

Hi Jim—

I like the clarity and the vividness of the sensory details. I especially liked “batch of breath and sweat,” “cenote-green,” and “bouldered stream.”

A few minor nits:
1. In L7 should “lime stone” be “limestone?”
2. In L9 should “arcing” be “arching?” “Arcing” is used to describe motion and means either “following the trajectory of an arc” or “forming an electric arc.” “Arching” is used to describe position and means “forming an arch.” You would say “The baseball was arcing into center field.” You would also say “The cat was arching her back.”
3. The last three lines are a bit hard to untangle syntactically. “gliding” in L15 is dangling. I think you mean that the cyclist is gliding, but the only possible nouns that it could describe are “quads” and “vistas.”
4. I couldn’t find a subject for “was told.” Since it is passive, the “something” that was told could refer to the entire preceding noun phrase, but that doesn’t make good sense. It might be more graceful to swap out “was told” for “they said” or “we’re told.”
5. Should “comanches” be capped? You capped the proper nouns that name places.

Enjoyed it!

Glenn

Hi Glenn,

Oh, darn. Here I was thinking that bad grammar is the key to turning prose into poetry and then you come along. I agree with all your points and have tried to fix them in a new version. I've left the original up as my scarlet "G" that we grammar manglers should wear. Thanks!

Jim -

While this captures some of the joys of riding in hilly country, it completely misses the feel of the paceline where you become part of an organism beyond yourself - where you draw strength from other riders in the group and do your pulls at the front without considering your own exertion.

JB

Hi John,

Thanks for giving this some attention. Your comment really made me think about a couple things. The original title for this was "Perfect," which reflected that wind-in-the-face moment in the South Texas spring after an uphill climb when all is before you on the downhill glide and looking grand with the sense of freedom and place and expended energy. Then, for some reason I changed the title to "Sharing the Lead." That new title is a false front for what the poem is about. You are right. I did not capture the group experience of an organized ride. My solution for this piece, which is more about enjoying a slice of Hill Country and Balcones Escarpment charm, is to come up with a better title that does not mislead readers. I'd be interested in whether you think that will help the piece, even if far from making the poem "perfect."

Jim

Jim, I agree with John. The poem shows considerable skill but at the end it doesn’t leave anything behind. Find a way to say what’s being said with more frisson.

Hi John,

Thanks for commenting. I'm not quite sure you quoted John B. verbatim but I'll assume you're close enough. The frisson you are talking about is always the tough part, to capture the moment imagined and present it in a way that will give the reader some internal goosebumps. I don't have any revision yet in mind but certainly would like this to be more than a descriptive passage to readers.

Jim

I've posted a version 3 with a new title and new ending attempting to find some frisson as John R. advised.

Jim

I like the ramble of the revision. Allowing the reader to watch the poet's mind working is a good way to connect. My suggestion now is to clear out some details. Include only the ones that do more than describe. An obvious place is the description of the water. I like feeling the bounce, as though water is falling, but it is also a jam. For example, "wisps of cloud" and "tumbled" graveling. If the graveling isn't tumbling it doesn't matter if it was once tumbled.

These are my thoughts and suggestions. They're not intended to hurt feelings. I hope they help.

Hi John,

I've compressed the three lines about water under the bridge into one. Water under the bridge is perhaps best passed quickly over. Thanks for the advice.

Jim