Near and Fargo(ing)


There is still a small amount of dirt here in Newport. Not much, but there if you look hard enough. Nature is being voted out here in favor of more concrete, wood, fake grass and stucco, so I’m not long for these parts, but until that day I will continue to dig. This little ride went from pavement to single track, to dirt bike path to pavement and back again. Thirty miles of feeding the monkey. A burned and barren landscape reeking of a campfire gone wrong. Punching out the miles, mind drifting, enjoying what life on two wheels is all about. You also have to understand, after six months off the bike due to Lyme, ANY riding is like climbing your local 20,000 footer. This bike garners attention. People riding by with their mouth open, staring at “what IS that?” The frame bag gets a lot of questions. Is that a motor? Yes. Is that a sail(my personal favorite.) Yes, yes it is. I tell people I have a baby in there.

12 responses to “Near and Fargo(ing)”

  1. The frame bag clearly is where you smuggle drugs right under the noses of the Empire.

  2. Charlene says:

    A bike with a baby holding sail…

    You’ve gone into the stork business?

  3. mike a says:

    Dan I used to ride a bike all the time and for some reason I stopped. Maybe I let marriage, kids and life give me an excuse to stop. Recently I bought a bike at a yard sale while on an assignment. I rode it yesterday for the first time, wow, I didn’t realize how much I missed it.

  4. Chris Fuller says:

    You are welcome to come join us anytime up here in Helena, MT, where the sky is big and bike trails free of cement are plenty.

  5. Randy says:

    Can that baby pop a wheelie?

  6. Patrick Dodds says:

    You OK Mr Milnor? Awful quiet round these parts. This is no way meant to pressure you to return to the Great Time Sink that is the internet though.

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