When looking back at your “accomplishments” your special talents, be they truly special, should make themselves known. Look deeply into your own eyes…what a you got?
Me? I am an ace at drinking inexpensive beers out of cans and expensive whiskey out of flasks on bike rides in the woods underneath a full moon. Sounds simple, but it isn’t. You got to line up all your ducks. I start with finding out when the full moon is on any given month. This can be tricky, because sometimes- heck, lots of times- it isn’t conveniently timed to coincide with the weekend. Timing is key. So, armed with that bit of prep, you can then move on to the advanced rigors of communicating the time, and the location to your intended accomplices.
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Location is key. You need a trail network that combines all the elements of bad-assness. Most important for the purpose of boozy riding around in the dark is (convincing your 1st time accomplices that their lights are not only unnecessary and prohibited, but are actively fucking up your night vision) clear sight lines. If you’re tucked up under a bunch of moon ray blocking trees then you are losing, and that’s not winning. Find some open trails where you and friends will cavort with no hassles. Etc. It is worth mentioning that if you got snow all over your shit, that is all to the good. So much reflected light.
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I keep promoting this because it is worth it. Your local trails can become lackluster. Riding in the moonlight allows them to shine like new. It’s just enough of a difference.
For the just-past Full Wolf Moon here next to the Pacific, we mixed it up. On Sunday (officially the full moon) it was a trail ride. Upon arrival, I noticed that Heckle and Jeckle were both on single speeds. This was a factor in route choices, and allowed me the opportunity to pretend solidarity by not shifting and spinning as madly as those yahoos- until it wasn’t fun or I was out of sight with the opportunity to gap them as hard as I could. That kind of mental game is real important for your winning. Oh, how we laughed. Beers, whiskeys, crashes and lies. I rolled into my driveway at 4AM.
After recovery (napping much of the following afternoon), I was able to participate in the road event. We planned to ride down HWY 1 to Esalen. Those springs, perched cliff-side over the ocean, are UNBELIEVABLE. There is a public late night access from 1-3AM (not so accessible, huh?) which is the only time you people are allowed on the grounds. I didn’t formally count, but traffic was very light and I’d guess we saw a couple dozen cars at most. There were long periods of quietly gliding along with the sensation of being suspended between the sea and the sky. Conditions in January literally right next to the Pacific? 51 degrees.
My wife drove down in the race van to meet us for the soak. Being as we (well, I) had blown our start time and then hung out on Bixby Bridge trying (no luck with my phone/camera) to get photos of the shadows cast by the arches on the canyon floor beneath while there were no cars(?!?!) around…she met us on the road. We piled into the broom wagon but it still counted as a win.
I’m talking about riding bikes, maing. Fuck all that other stuff. I don’t know what your options are, but you do. Exercise them bitches.by