A theme for this week has been trying to work against shortcuts or the easy way when it doesn't really benefit me or others. I've been trying to ride my bike every day - on the trails if possible - and so far in September that's been possible. A couple days ago, I had an iced coffee at 7:30 p.m. and consequently stayed up until 4 a.m., chatting online with an old friend who broke his shoulder last week when his front wheel got caught in a trolley track in Boston (happens to all of us, man, heal well) and then playing sudoku until I passed out. Henceforth, I missed me opportunity to go hiking and swimming in Ohiopyle and my whole yesterday was off to a slow start. By the time we had a chance to leave the house for a ride, there were a few options: ride Frick, to which I had written a strongly written letter in my head about its trail conditions, ride Hartwood for an hour or even less, as they don't permit night riding, or head into South Park and bring the lights. South Park is a gucked up mess of a park, and has been the cause for many divorces over the years between me and E. I had sworn it off previously, but for the sake of riding for longer, trying something new (I'm also trying to say YES more often, as I did during my trip to Chile a few years ago), being open to change, support of my darling husband, and also because it's been a long time since I've gone night riding, I already had the bikes on the back of the car by the time he came home from work, lights charged (we'll get to that in a moment), and water blatter full.
The trails, true, were gunky, sticky, wheel-eating messes. but my memory of them was so traumatized that they seemed like wonderful swooping meadows in comparison to my fears. They were peanut buttery, deep sinking and slick, made worse by the hoof prints of horses who are taken for walked along the same trails. and even the dry parts of the trail were often difficult to keep rubber-side down because of the wet glaze covering them. But they did swoop and slope, and at the end of the day it's still nice to be in the woods. The fields were overgrown and full of jaggers, but they were a spectacle to ride behind another biker as the flowers and tall grass yo-yoed and buoyed with the friction and wind of passing bodies.
When night came, my light wasn't on more than a few minutes before the top indicator light started flashing, it's first warning the battery was set to die. The charger glowed it's green "charged" light earlier, so this was an assault on truth, a war on night riding. It was also a great push to ride through things I ordinarily would soft pedal, and to run through the obstacles I could't see enough to ride (or wouldn't ride anyway). The top light started blinking fast as my headlamp started to flicker and my vision waiver. We opted to chance one last quick trail, rather than ride on the road, and the thrill of limited visibility is possibly a new love, and emblematic of either my complete lust for life or my listlessness, I haven't quite decided. But we made it, and I didn't crash, and I didn't cry, and we didn't divorce, and all things considered I would ride South Park again. If, like, all the other parks were closed.
While we're on the topic, lets talk about lights. I feel like major cycling lights -- to see, rather than merely to be seen -- went from being described in watts to lumens since I started working in bike shops and since then, I can barely keep up with the progress! I have a NiteRider MiNewt, which the internet tells me is 150 lumens, though it barely holds a charge these days and anyone who's worked in a bike shop knows it's better to just ride home in the terrored darkness than try to get someone at NiteRider to return a call about a warranty. I also, however, have a Light & Motion Stella 250.
At the time, 250 lumens seemed like a luxurious excess. I could see anything! Do I really even WANT to see that much? Surely this many lumens defeats the purpose of even going out at night. Quickly, the numbers rose until finally there was a cap put on it, allegedly, because bike lights were outshining car headlights. Maybe when I get a job I'll bump up to 400 lumens just to mess with the norms, and I know that just like the iPhone, once I upgrade, I won't know what took me so long. All the reason to wait, I suppose.
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