Oh Solo Night…
Three rides in a row. The first was two hours of poopy legs. The second try was a mere hour – 45 minutes, then a torn sidewall and 15 minutes of walking. Third night, tonight, I hit gold – 2 hours 20 minutes of solid technical night riding, solo.
Getting home from work is a good thing. Today was a good day. I decided that I was going to put last week behind me and work hard to look ahead. It worked. The only thing on my mind when driving home from work was what route I was going to ride. I hurry up and get dressed and grab a granola bar on my way out. I check my tires (I’d been having problems getting my front to seal, it had been losing air pressure way to fast), hop on the bike, clip in. and start rolling down the street. I knew it would be a good ride when I cleared the first two lights. I roll by, watching as people sit in their cars waiting for their turn to go. I see guys with racks on their car, watching my back as I roll by. I’ve been that guy before. Envious… jealous… frustrated it isn’t me riding. Yeah, I’ve been there. Today is my turn. I keep turning the pedals over, roll through the last light of my journey, weave my way through a Sam’s club parking lot, which at times is harder than the actual trail and definitely more dangerous. Hopping the curb into the singletrack brings me great relief. Just like that, as if someone shut out the lights, I’m in another world. A world where nothing else matters but how my legs and lungs feel. I take that first descent a little slow; trying to get used to the new tread up front. It catches like new rubber should. Confidence builds.
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