Flutterby™! : Perfection

Somewhere between twenty five and thirty miles and hour, as the road zig-zags between the chill of shadow amongst the redwoods, and the comfortable February sun over the green hills of the rainy season, there's a certain balance. The wind catches my chest, pushing upward, my butt floats over the seat, and even though I'm down in the drop bars there's little pressure on my hands; it feels like I'm flying in close formation with the bicycle, it and I have similar intents as I lift my shoulder, catch a little more air, and bank through the turns.

For a time expectation perfectly matches reality, the physics and the fantasy are as synchronized as my body is with the bike and the bike with the road. And life feels very, very good.

[And the topic picker chose "Erotic" and I was tempted to keep it...]