Age is not an injury, but recently the Thedirtmagnet might argue otherwise. The most recent catalyst for this burgeoning tanty is a simple cocktail, wherein one mixes TDM’s favorite person (Pinky), a planned 3-week vacation to the deserts of the four-corners region and (now for the active ingredient) a sudden back/nerve injury which leveled TDM on day 5, and then reduced him to nearly four consecutive weeks of intense pain. Sure, there were still adventures to be had, but if choices were given, TDM would prefer that the fifteen foot traverse from his bed to the bathroom not constitute an expedition requiring ten minutes of intense emotional and procedural preparation. TDM had heard that someday this kind of thing might happen, but as it turns out, knowing about the future does not save us from it, now does it?
Uncalled for change is a prickly dish, and after building his life around action there are legions of reasons why being physically shanghaied might lead TDM to huck a pea or two in protest. If TDM used his words in the place of flying food he might note that the pain, lack of sleep, and other fundamentally physical sufferings are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, as they are merely unpleasant, but in no way a threat to his being. No, the real threat implied by his new sedentism is more spiritual (don’t freak out…stay on target), and centered on the thus far unchallenged fear that TDM as a person is too crispy a chip to be happy without the constant soothing motion of physical distraction. Indeed, this fear harried our hero in the early days of his ordeal, and as he lay tensed in his injury pod with every controller, book, beverage, snack and drawing tool inside the radius of his limited reach, he at times swore he could hear the existential riders of the identity apocalypse howling “if you are not moving, you are not you!”
But thankfully the movement, it turns out, has always been more mind than body, and as the sound of existential hooves faded out of range TDM has set to the business of enjoying and growing in other ways unfairly neglected in such mobile environs. And the result…much the same as the more kinetic version of TDM…tea left to cool in the microwave…projects half completed….schematics and maps spread about the place, only in a much smaller radius of influence and chaos. In the end, Thedirtmagnet in both his real and imaginary incarnations appears to be more robust than feared to be, so he has that going for him…which is nice.
Having had a few thousand moments to consider the obvious ponderous questions, TheDirtMagnet could at this time easily hose-down the (nonexistent) reader with so much drivel about the meaning of life and other pointless tragedies of thought, but instead he will talk more about his feelings….just kidding…sort of. A review of the experience has led to this mundane truth: It is true that his long-anticipated plan for vacation bliss was an almighty disaster, but strangely TDM would not trade the intended for the result. Throughout the early days of the ordeal a thing was shared with Pinky whose scarcity is legendary…we were connected, present, and more than not laughing. Added to this has been the palpable sense that the navigation of events unknown and spirited is the very soul of adventure, even if it takes place on I-80 as your loved one tries to get you home with the least amount of suffering possible. In fact, this traversing of unknown boundaries sounds suspiciously similar to most of TDM’s treasured solo rides, only with the bonus of sharing memorable times with his best friend…gushy, but undeniably splendid, no? Add to this the benefits of time soaked in neglected mental passions, and this spell of immobility can only be viewed through the eyes of the obliged…weird, huh?
If wishes were gratis, and TDM could choose his choices, he would at this very moment remove all hints of injury and ride strait from his house to the top of Mary’s Peak in celebration of his love of geography and wheels…no doubt about it. But wishes are not involved here, and in the end TDM is happy enough to be granted this thought; if it is true that right now he is mildly paralyzed and unable to act, then he will take this inaction to be a sign that new ground is broken merely by staying gracefully still, and in this case there is some solace in knowing that if even doing nothing is an adventure, then the TDM corps d’esprit remains intact, and his mischief is clearly being managed as per the master-plan.
… now hand him that controller, and get the F out of the way.
 …traversing various wild canyons for Anasazi evidences, with occasional bikepacking episodes as needed.
 …aging denial is no new trick for TDM…take his insistence that his GPS seems to be broken because strava says he is getting slower, even as he feels like things are happening faster.
 So much worse.
 …and sick descents…he has definitely missed sick descents.