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NIGHT RIDING IS GOOD
By Ken Naffziger mailto:Naffziger@worldnet.att.net
It was a dark moonless night. He glanced up the hill and could see the first rider reaching the top. Breath came hard and he could feel the heat pouring off his forehead. He knew the minute he stopped his glasses would steam up and they would be useless. He pressed down hard on the right pedal focusing on the right side of his body, trying to even out the exertion. Fifty years of unconscious left handedness had taken its toll on his body. He pressed on to the top and acknowledging a slight feeling of nausea he joined the others. The glasses steamed and he slid them down on his nose so he could see the rest of the group. Fortunately he recovered quickly and noticed the stillness of the night. It was overwhelming. The conversation began with a lofty discussion of the beauty of the night and the lights of the valley below. The view which streched from Mt. Tam, to Inverness Ridge, to the East bay, was breathtaking. Slowly the conversation deteriorated to bodily functions as the endorphins kicked in and advanced silliness took over. Someone flipped on their Night Rider and they were off.
Starting down the steep single track he slid way back on his bike, his stomach resting on the seat. It had rained a few times and the tractionwas good. Dabbing the brakes carefully, he maintained his speed without skidding. At the bottom he let it run. He was filled with eager anticipation of all the " challengy little things " to come. The trail wound gently through the trees and he paused to watch the lights weave through the darkness. He flipped the handle bar light to its 20 watt flood mode and set the helmet light on its 15 watt spot mode. Up on the pedals, arms loose he felt the bike float underneath him as he wound his way down the trail. The single track began to climb again and he hunkered down and started to work, keeping his breath smooth and even. He looked up the trail remembering all those times the trail seemed impossible to ride. It was impossible to ride because he had looked at his front wheel the whole time instead of 20 feet down the trail. He was amazed at how hard it was to remember the simple stuff and that time he 'endoed' and hit his head on a rock. Helmets are a great thing. He remembered his oldGiro, purple to match his bike, that was a good helmet. BLAM!! He hit a big rock and was expecting the inevitably pinch flat to follow. It didn't follow. Opps! Have to concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.
They emerged from the trees and out onto the fireroad. It climbed steeply and smoothly up to the top of the largest hill around. More spectacular views would be had but for now the climb was the thing. He had done it before and it was a " doable" climb. He gripped the bars tightly , focused on his breath, and ground away focusing on the road and the spots he would need extra bursts of energy to make it up. Summit achieved!
The city twinkled in the night sky and the stars were brilliant. He could see the landing lights of the jets lined up in the sky waiting to land at the SF airport. Conversations were low and scattered. Someone mentioned "Carpenters" in a random conversation on the edge of the group. The "Carpenters?!! As if on cue all riders in the group began singing; "Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near, just like me , they long to be close to you. Ah ahah, close to you. Ah ahah , close to you. On the day that you were born, the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true, so they sprinkled gold dust in your hair, he didnt know this part so he da da da da ed it until the chorus. GAWD!!
They all mounted up and sped down the fire road to the cold valley below. It was freezing on the valley floor they sped to their starting point chasing each other down in a spirited wind sprint home.
Night riding is good.