Got down to the park last night around 8pm. It's getting dark, no moon, so
a perfect opportunity for the Gray Lady's maiden voyage at night. I
haven't ridden the singlespeed after dark, (at least not intentionally), and
was excited to try out the lights I'd gotten for my birthday.
As I'm getting ready, the last few stragglers are meandering back to their
rigs, and give me a funny look as I change into bike tights etc., right out
in the open. O well. Nothing they haven't seen before.
Turn on the low beam, and away we go. Up the switchbacks of Chickadee Ridge
to the top. Stayed seated longer than usual, since it's hard to gauge the
grade at night. You just pedal harder. Finally stood up toward the top.
Tooled along the spine, remembering the great horned owl we spotted with Jim
and Carla when we rode this from the other direction.
Dropped down the side, and holding a line was tricky. This is gonna be
fun...
Cross the dirt road called 8th street, to Uncle Stan's (the Connector,
Kestrel, whatever), and the climb is good. I hadn't ridden for a week, and
it felt like it. Stand up for the last long pitch, and I'm sucking wind.
Getting hot and when I crest out, take off the bandana and unzip my shirt.
Drink some. Shut off the light and look at the valley all lit up.
Shag it on over to the Hulls creek crossing. Muscle through that on
instinct, and then stop to wonder if this was smart. Suppose if I wanted to
be safe or smart I could be home watching tv eating chips, right? Not high
above the valley in the black of night on a fully rigid one-trick pony.
Lower the seat and head down Hulls. That was tough! the light bouncing
around was disorienting, and althouth this isn't a tough trail indaylight,
in fading battery light, it was challenging in a couple spots.
About 2/3s down, I overcorrected at a tricky spot, and was catapulted off
the trail, to "<SMACK>" onto my chest, scraping everything up and I thought
I'd busted my hand and more ribs. Thankfully, today, I'm sore, but I don't
think anything's broken. So it was hard to carry the bike out of the rocky
creekbed back onto the trail, but I make it. Turn on both lights again, as
I don't want to biff again.
Lights start dying on me. At one point at the bottom where it levels off, I
plow through sand and hit this spot that just stopped my tire and I fell
over hard on my right knee, smacking the rock. The fun just keeps coming.
I'm bleeding through my torn tights now, and wondering when this party is
scheduled to stop. I finally make it to 8th st., ,and figure with my luck
this night, I'd better take the dirt road back to the sports utility beater,
and not tempt the trails gods to smack me some more.
Eventually limp it on home, where my wife says, "it's sure good to see you,
I just called Alex (a riding buddy), and I was leaving to go look for you!"
yeah, yeah, whatever, where's the hooch and the painkillers, huh?
paladin