RIDLEY PEARSON

The day began as any other: sunshine, clean air, and a sky the color of the one-year date-a-versary sapphire ring she wore on her right hand. Her work schedule at the hospital varied, meaning that although a Tuesday, she thought of it as her Saturday. She thought of it as a chance to disconnect, to take morning time for herself and then run some errands before cleaning her apartment.

Lacing her let bike shoe tightly to accommodate the mild ankle sprain from two weeks earlier, she tugged her ankle sock clear of the shoe while admiring the scars along the sides that interrupted the logo. Don’t call her a street rider; she took to the hills, she bushwhacked on her days of , putting in twenty to thirty miles, climbing and descending a few thousand vertical feet, and winning herself a dif erent awe-inspiring view whenever possible. Her destination was Peregrine Point, a personal challenge that her boyfriend had told her was an unrealistic goal. By the time they’d turned of the lights, both sweating and breathing like they’d run a marathon, they had a ten dollar wager in place that she couldn’t make it up to Peregrine Point.

She smiled as she zipped her keys into the pouch behind the bike’s seat; he’d given her a mini multi-tool on a keychain for Christmas, possibly the most useless git ever, but one that endeared him to her for that very reason. His impression of her brought out things she didn’t know about herself; it was true that she wasn’t afraid to tackle home projects —s he had her father to thank for that — but a multi-tool? Really? She already carried a tire repair kit.

She rode the mountain bike to the trailhead. This was one of the few diferences they had: why he wanted to drive the car to then ride bikes seemed absurd to her. Amusing at irst, it had become a sore point between them. Each push of the pedal leant her a sense of superiority having let the car behind. Her breathing calmed; she found a rhythm both internally and to the sound of the bike’s smooth mechanics. These solo rides ofered a sense of freedom, a meditative few hours where she could remain in the present and leave home and work and even him, behind.