Riding in the Blair's Witch woods on a moonless, frigid night conjures up images of monsters and gnomes waiting around the dark bend. Waiting to scare the living crap out of mountain bikers foolhardy enough to ride at night. As you spin the cranks to ward off the night frost, a big lump develops in your throat and fluids in your lungs threaten to drown you. Your visions begin to cloud as tears fall down from the stinging cold. Still you ride. Chasing your cold shadow into the void as your bike shimmer and shimmy with the ebb and flow of the sinister trail. Logic be damned this is Blair’s Witch country be the faster rider or else meet your maker.
There’s this guy on our ride whose moniker is Single Speed Outlaw. He knows the local trails like the back of his hand. He is our guide for it is his backyard, his playground. He likes to ride hard during the day. At night he is a different animal. He can see even without the aid of his HID light. On night rides he is a big hammer.
Hours of darkness are frightening for most folks. After all the bogeyman owns the night. When we ride at night, on the coldest night of the year we go against the grain. Against the common sense that is bestow upon us as thinking creatures. But mountain biking at night is for doers not thinkers. We are committed to the core. And yes, it is much better than sitting by the fireside, watching “must see TV”.
ThankSS for reading and have a swell day. mugg
Looking for the bogeyman.
Blazing the trail.
Time for a little reflection.
Sadly, our prime destination, the Blair’s Witch House was no longer standing. Rubble was all that was left. It was a bummer to say the least.
Jaybone and xander were mugging in the dark.
Inspecting what was left of the spooky house.
SSO was Light and Motion above the rest.
Ken wished upon a star.
"With finger on her solemn lip,
Night hushed the shadowy earth.”
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