Every spring it never fails. A perfect ride happens. When clipping in and setting out, it might be that the weather is great. Beyond that, I’m not thinking about much more with regard to the ride ahead, other than the route I have mapped out in my head.
Up in the Lagunas, I pedaled up the Old County Rd and then dropped in on Chico, slaloming down the winter-ravaged trail that was rutted out here and there and with downed trees nearly everywhere. Squeezed the brakes and worked around it all, was how things went.
On over in the direction of Red Tail, connecting single track with double track, crossing streams as I went, the sun was high and the air was warm. Wet shoes and socks didn’t matter.
Going clockwise around Red Tail, I spun out on the steep cobbles climb, all that dirt, debris and scree getting me off the bike. Walking is part of mountain biking, I smiled.
Around Red Tail and then on over to Los Gatos, I swooped and swallowed like the bird in flight. Along the way, I stopped and admired a bobcat while gurgles of water emanated up from below. A few low-lying wildflowers reached for sunshine in the dappled light.
Down Gatos, more swooping and swallowing, the bike carried me like an aeroplane through the trees. Not needing to set gears, I pushed and pulled and swayed my hips, pumping my way, too.
Over to the meadows, I went. Up head, a sight to behold came traipsing down, a horse with two lovers on its back. They were dressed to the nines in cowboy and cowgirl get-ups, she up front with bright red lipstick shining and lighting their way. Ranchero music emanated from one of their persons via a portable speaker, the first time I ever was happy hearing music on the trail. Young love was present. I turned around to see if they had a blanket roll. I could not see one, but maybe they didn’t need a blanket (!).
More single track and minimal people, my cadence was pure meditation. Pedal and keep pedaling, was all it took, like always, to move forward. I reminded myself of the simplistic beauty of the bicycle.
I made my way up to where I started and when I cruised on back to the car, I had only one thought: that was a perfect ride.
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Thanks for the word picture narrative. One of my favorite places to ride!