My life is pretty ordinary. I wake up every morning, have my breakfast, commute to work, work, work and do more work, commute home, sleep, then do it all again. We are creatures of habit and routine and our schedules during the week are more or less defined by the things we are forced to do rather than the things we want to do. But then the weekend comes and so do the mountains.
The mountains and roads to us are our salvation, our salvation from the everyday routine of our lives, the same practical schedule, the daunting task of choosing what to eat for lunch, and the overbearing and annoying coworkers. These roads travel up then they travel down. Some of these roads twist and turn and others are long and straight. These roads of ours are sometimes leveled in pavement, chipsealed, or layered in dirt. Most times we leave just our sweat on the pavement other times we leave a bit of ourselves. These roads are our path from point A to point B and sometimes the occasional C. We owe a lot to these roads. Other than our skin and sweat, we leave behind the insanity, the memories, the calories, and the stress but somewhere along these roads we gain something just as important. We gain friendships, we gain memories, and the most important, we gain freedom. Where the weekend ends these roads will never. We owe our lives to roads likes these.