A solo ride from Pine Valley up to Champagne Pass and then on over to Noble Canyon Trail to ride it back to where my car was parked, reminded me of the need to sometimes get out there and feel a sense of remoteness and what it’s like to think: if I fall and take a tumble …
… it’s going to hurt.
… don’t think about it.
… I won’t fall that far.
… someone will come along, eventually.
… as long as I don’t break a bone.
… you’ll be fine.
… keep it positive.
Two riders and their two dogs gave me the right-of-way, as I was climbing and they were descending.
“Thank you and enjoy the day!”
Forever views and a glorious, sunshiny, blue sky on a mountain air morning in mid-50s Fahrenheit temperatures had me thinking:
This is why I pedal a bike in the mountains.
In this moment, I want of nothing else.
Be here now.
I cleaned some sections of Noble I hadn’t in a while and I goofed up the lines and had to dismount and walk some other sections. It was a typical Noble day, in other words.
On the long, sandy slog climb to get to do the boulder-filled ending, I met up with another solo rider. He was taking a break before the final piece of fun/danger zone that was ahead of us.
Hope I don’t end up like a turtle down in the boulders, he said.
If so, I’ll pick you up and turn you over, I responded.
Off he went. After a few minutes to create a gap, I went. I cleaned it all the way to the final crux and got bounced, but didn’t crash. Back at the parking lot, he was standing by his car, unscathed.
Me, too.