Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Midnight Cowboy
I begin to wonder if the pressure on my head is coming from my helmut or the strain of squinting my eyes. My senses are hyper aware as I attempt to navigate the trail by moon, stars and cheap forty dollar headlight. The rush of riding at night has inundated my mind with a feeling I can never let go. The trails are bustling with activity as the nocturnal nature of most creatures is interfered by my presence. After dusting myself off for the third time in a row after a crash I am determined to keep myself upright the remainder of the ride. This will be a hard mantra to follow due to my predilection for speed and the fact that I can barely see ten feet in front of me. As my time on the saddle increases so does my level of confidence. I have ridden this trail thousands of times and I know every rock, root and hole on it. Yet, why does it feel so unmistakably different? My thoughts are sliced in half by the shocking realization of an event taking place out of my immediate control that will be with me forever. Rounding a bend in the trail I have picked up an abundance of speed, something like 7 miles an hour (see forty dollar headlight). Rather than singletrack and the noticeable darkness that has accompanied me for the duration of the ride there lies before me two sets of hooves and a hulking body positioned perfectly in the middle of the trail. A split second lasts an eternity when you are riddled with this much adrenaline. I begin thinking of the hamburger I had for dinner, the weight limit of my front fork and the reason I am out all alone riding by Lake McMurtry on this starlit night. The next thing I know I am in the middle of a mini stampede. Luckily for me, and the cow, I have meticulously laid my bike down on its side to avoid a direct impact. As the dust and my heart rate begin to settle I dust myself off for a fourth time. A little shaken, a little uneasy but forever hooked on the concept of hammering down the trail with a light strapped to my head or handlebars. Turns out that pressure on my head had been coming from the giant smile on my face.
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