Phantom Limb

I went on a solo night ride last Wednesday. The air was warm and still. As I reached the the top of Bommer Ridge, I could see lights from Avalon to El Toro. I headed along the ridge, not even thinking about being alone in the dark...and predators. I never worry about predators, but sometimes I think about them. Wednesday was just too perfect for distractions. I kept on to Fenceline and rode the series of rolling single tracks across the back of Crystal Cove State Park. Then I dropped down Lizard Trail, edging into the dark canyon. Lizard follows a serpentine path beneath a canopy of scrub oak and live oak. I whipsawed through the lush and shadowy undergrowth. Lizard is a perfect night trail, completely engrossing, it is easy to lose one's time, one's place and completely succumb to the experience - diving through a sea of dark leaves and branches.

I continued down Laurel Canyon, rolling over rock slides and loose soil. My reservations about riding alone, if I ever had them, seemed distant. I was in my own space, my own time and it seemed impenetrable. It was impenetrable until something from the dark void (that would everything directly outside the beam of my light) protruded into my path. A small, or not so small, branch prodded me. The unseen stick, the phantom limb shoved me off the trail into rocks, boulders, sage and lots of things I couldn't see (ticks?). I wasn't wounded beyond the surface of my skin. I don't like to crash, but I don't stress from scratches. Perhaps I'm in this venture for the scrapes and nicks - my temporary tattoos, reminders of where I've been, what I've seen.

I continued to the flat part of Laurel Canyon, perhaps a bit dispirited, but happy an unseen branch didn't push me into a gully. For now, nature, even unseen, seems to be friendly. Seems? In the lower part of Laurel, I heard large footsteps. Probably deer. This time my mind turned to predators. I kept peddling through the dark, pushing out to the main canyon. I was happy to have some remaining battery, some remaining light, and enough energy to push on home.