and springs off the top of the next swell and rises and rises and rising over the dusty earth he glides skyward in a whispering-curvaceous arc descending just as silently for another whoop and hump and drops down into the next swell and rolls through it , sinks down into the bike and digs into the sandiness and rises up again in a rush and leaps into the air and rises and flies and glides and drops and sinks and springs up and drops down and weightlessly for a moment and for a moment absorbing his own weight magnified and liquefied and suspended over the wheels and faster and faster they come , the swells , and faster and faster he hits them , flying higher and further and sinking deeper and deeper and rhythmically squeezing time and matter and motion into a fluid silkiness fluttering in the rumbling breeze and just ahead he sees it , the final swell , and just ahead he feels it , the final swell waiting for that final flight when hell spring for the last time into space and for the last time rise above the earth beyond thought and fear and doubt and worry in an explosion of light-trembling twinkling under his wingless solitude when he will drop into the penultimate swell , sink , roll thrust with his legs and , fly !