Two Wheel Blogs

This morning feels like the morning after a long night out. Last night was the November edition of night riding at Castlewood.

I'd say the turnout for the evening's festivities was in the 50-60 rider range - not as many as two weeks ago but still a good number of riders. Temperatures at ride time were in the mid-40's, just about perfect for riding hard.

And hard riding it was. The color is off the trees and enough of the leaves have fallen on the trail that riding trails, particularly on a fully rigid single speed, can be both treacherous and brutal. Parts of me this morning feel like they were beaten with a club last night.

It didn't help that I started out having one of those 'no chain' rides. What a amazing feeling. I suited up and took off like a shot. The first climb was like butter. The pedals seemed to turn themselves. My rhythm was flawless. I carved turns and floated over obstacles. The magic continued when I crested the climb and began the first descent. So this was what flow was all about. I like! I had visions of an effortless three hours of fast and flawless night time trail riding. That vision was just a dream.

I woke up from my dream nearing the end of the first hour of riding. The climb I'd floated up earlier was not nearly so easy now. My legs started complaining. For the first time I noticed I was breathing hard. This was turning into a workout. And the more I struggled with the physical exertion the worse I got at floating over the obstacles I could see. The obstacles I couldn't see... the ones buried in the leaves... they started popping up everywhere.

I checked my watch to monitor my progress on the trails. I covered as much trail in the second hour as I did in the first hour. The only difference was the first hour had been pure bliss. The second hour... well it was pure bliss too. It was just also a lot of work, and pain. The pain, of course, came from bumping into things hidden by the leaves, but it also came from falling, er, crashing.

Yeah baby, I had a really nice crash last night. It happened just as I was making my transition over from floating to fighting. I got off my line on a particularly rough section in a long descent and things went bad in a hurry. I have no idea exactly what happened. I went one way and my bike went the other. When all was silent and still once again I was about ten feet down the trail from my bike. My lights were OK. My bike appeared to be none the worse for the tumble. I felt good and clubbed - all-in-all not so bad. After that one I took my descents a little more conservatively.

By the end of two hours I had fallen twice more. Crashed, that's the more dramatic word for it. The first was a crash I suppose. My front wheel got off on the low side of an off-camber corner and the dry leaves took over from there. I was down in a flash. The second crash was much the same, except in this case the corner wasn't nearly as hard to negotiate as the earlier one. I had a short lapse in focus and got off the side of the trail. I tried to coast through it, but as I fought to keep my balance I just sort of fell down in one smooth slow motion.

With that it was time to call it a night. I was beyond the point of getting tired. I was tired. Two hours of cold, dark trail hammering isn't exactly epic, but I managed to fit a full compliment of riding experience into it. I can hardly wait for the next one.

And speaking of which, the next Castlewood night ride will be held on December 21st from 7-10pm. It's on my calendar.