And another chance to see something I missed.
Another turn of another magazine page and another clicking and dragging session through the snapped seconds of the trip I failed to take, the ride I forgot to show up for, the race I skipped and instead moved on to the next thing on my cornucopic list.
But Mitch was there.
How am I so sure? Well, there are my buddies—a group of very significant other thans—grabbing brakes through a dusty corner. And there they are again, lifting lightly over some dirty obstruction. And what’s this e-mail? Oh, great. Another gallery of smiles and sips from bottles and snaking, single-file climbs.
And, of course, Mitch was there—proof in the fact that he’s not there.
Mitch isn’t the subject of these graphic second chances. He’s not the focus of the articles. He’s not even the byline of his own man-on-the-streets reporting. And that’s the sign of a true truth sayer—all signs point to no … away from him and toward the facts he articulates.
So, although you’ve seen the shots and they’ve inspired you to make moves—if not on your own escapes to Moab, Fruita, or Potter’s Pasture, then maybe some fantasy-camp alternative loop in your own backyard—you’ll still probably never see Mitch.
Ever.
Mitch will see you, though. Even if you’re living a life far from his trips, rides, and other grubby exploits, he’ll sneak you into the shadowy corner of some silhouette—just like you were there—giving you that second chance to see things the way he sees them. Things you might have missed the first go ’round.
-Kevin Wilkins