It felt like time to ride something worthwhile.

        Out Highland, up Buzzards, along Cussacks, and to Santa Rosalita, the new bike felt great, despite my haggard parts, and the conditions were more evident of a drought than the Velcro traction I had been anticipating.  With only the corners and bits of trail tucked into north-facing slopes tacky and moist, the rest of the trail was already dusty from a busy weekend of Valley riders.

        I had turned my article in by 4:30, was dressed in a nice polo shirt and the fastest, paintiest shorts to ever see a saddle, well-watered, prepped, and out the door by 5:00.  With the blues and oranges of an unusually warm and clear February night, the race to the top before the sun made its brief hibernation was on. 

5pm, the view from my deck. If the background weren't over exposed, you'd see Santa Cruz and the Monterey Bay out there. The ridge to the left is the Soquel State Demonstration Forest. Btw, that bike kicks mucho arse.

See ya later, bridge.

This particularly creepy photograph shows my nice polo shirt, helmet cam helmet, and a bit of optimism for the ride ahead. Optimism is almost as important as water on solo night rides.

Heading up Buzzard Lagoon. I love that name.

        Dropping in to the bermed, goaty singletrack, the NiteRider came on, and I realized how hard it is to avoid skidding without full suspension.  This narrow singletrack isn’t hard during the day, or on my regular workhorse of a steed, but at night and on the new bike, it was a bit of a chore to keep it all upright.  This was my first actual ride on the bike.  Besides some dirt jumping and cyclocross racing two days before in Fresno, I had never ridden one of these things before.  And I was loving it!  It’s one of the most amazing bicycles I have ever had the honor of riding.  I grew up riding XC hardtails, so I guess now, over a decade after I began riding, returning to such a bike is fitting.  It’s also just plain fun. 

This particularly boring photo shows the power of my light while going up Cusack's trail.

Sunset over Monterey.

Sandpoint at sunset.

        Snapping a few shots at Sand Point, the next phase of the ride was to descend to Aptos, a small sea-side town just south of Santa Cruz.  And the riding is fantastic. The first five minutes or so were breathtaking.  Several bats were flying along with me, in front and to the sides of my squinting face, in the dim sunset light.  There’s a lot more wildlife out at night than during the day, and if you’re quiet enough, you can experience some really cool stuff out there.  Last time I did this trail, I got stuck behind a skunk for over a mile of prime singletrack.  I didn’t want to pass the skunk, and he wanted to run down the trail at a very slow pace for a bicycle.  Little bugger darn near ruined a good chunk of my ride! 

Sand Point Overlook again, 8pm.

            It’s about 8 miles and something like 1800’ of elevation from the headquarters of Nisene Marks to Santa Rosalita, where lies the top entrance to Demo forest.  I putted about Nisene for a few minutes, reveling in the complete unimportance of my bike ride, took a few more photos, and headed on down one of my favorite trails in the world.

Entrance to Soquel Demonstration State Forest. I was hoping to record the hooting of a Great Horned Owl, but he stopped hootin' once my camera came out.

            Passing by Sand Point Overlook for the second time, it was already 8:00.  That means 3 hours of riding time.  With no knowledge of how long this light would last, the “ultra low” setting was sufficient for the long, grinding climb.  At the entrance to Demo, a Great Horned Owl was making it’s presence known, and I figured that riding Braille trail would be the best way to get max trail and max fun on this little ride.  That, and I was curious to discover just how hard this bonered-out little hardtail could be pushed. 

Ah, it's time to ride by braille down a favorite at Demo. I couldn't believe how well this bike could handle the fast downhill trails. It's not my Enduro, but it's a whole lot plusher than even my old Bontrager. I am honestly excited to go ride this bike again today!

            One particular bermed-out left turn is a joy to float up and slide through.  The berm drops into a sweet straight, and though it’s not much of a corner, it’s a great excuse for a big drift/skid.  Spun out, at probably 20 MPH, I began to slide up the face of the berm when the world returns to its primordial darkness.  A quick skid and kickout later, and the culprit of ‘lights out’ is found- the light came unplugged.  This was not the first time I’ve had a lights-out on a night ride, but after so much pedaling, I was relaxed and safely stopped without panic.  So much about night riding just seems more dangerous than day riding, but in reality, it’s not that big of a deal. Stay calm, and it’s no biggie.

The lights-out corner. Up on the highline to the left, my light cut out and it was total darkness. This is a fun corner, and here's a photo of it from last summer on my other single speed:

At the end of Braille trail, safe and sound, right around 9:00.

            Come 9:00 I was at the bottom of Braille, with 50 minutes of solid climbing to go before I could enjoy fresh Indian food, wine, and maybe a cracker and some beer.  This new bike flew up the climb towards Highland.  With the light probably on its last leg of charge, it was once again on the “ultra low” setting.  After some more photos at the park entrance, I had another lights-out while crossing the bridge on to the road home. 

Demo kiosk.

I've been climbing since Braille, some 3.0 miles ago.

9:55 pm, stumbling home. What a great ride!