As night falls early, the sun blotted by a solid bank of pregnant, gray cloud, the tall pines sway side-to-side in increasingly wide arcs, the shushing of their needles growing steadily in volume until the air is nothing but radio static. We bed down in the hallway, all the bedroom…
When playing drums in a rock and roll band didn't turn at to be as lucrative as he'd hoped, Padraig left his hometown of Memphis to pursue an MFA in poetry at UMASS Amherst. Writing about his other love, bicycles, seemed a natural progression; certainly it paid better than either poetry or rock music. His work has appeared everywhere from Bicycling Magazine to the LA Times. His feature, "My Day With Ilya," won a Lowell Thomas Award for travel writing. These days he lives in Sonoma County, California, where he attempts to inspire his two demitasse ninja with the wonder of bikes. Favorites: flavor: maple; wine: Boheme Pinot Noir; beer: Russian River Pliny the Elder; neurochemical: dopamine; poetry: Andrew Hudgins; fiction: Thomas Pynchon; music: David Sylvian; comedy: Firesign Theater; event: 8-Hours of Wente.
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