They meet at the Chula Vista golf course every Wednesday night to go to the Teki Hut or Steel Canyon Bridge. They invited me an’ John Carroll to attend this event, so I invited Mick an’ Carroll invited Rodger an’ Cindy to join in fun. We were down at Mission Cyclery getting ready checkin’ lights an’ stuff when it was decided to go. Off we went to the rony’viou place, the golf course.
When we pulled in the crowd was immense for a Wednesday night ride, must been 10 er 15 people of all ages an’ lighting systems. One fellow caught my attention, he had a huge spot light mounted on his bars powder’d by what it looked to be a motorcycle battery! It had to weigh a ton! Another inventive chap had glow sticks under his helmet to shine through, kinda neat.
Greetings were exchanged an’ the ride began. A brisk pace was chosen as we began to weave through the late night joggers an’ walkers like a drunk at Mardi Gras. No one was acting fool on this ride, all the people were season’d night riders with courtesy being show so the other exercisers on the trail.
Up the first hill to the green water tower. I couldn’t believe the pace these folks were putting out. Middle ring the whole way an’ not nary sign of slowing until we were sitting next to the GWT. Carroll was doing laps so we continued on to the Summit Park get to the Eastern trails. Once a’gin a brisk pace. I wasn’t sure why, but it was there none the less. As we went through the first switch back I looked to the right an’ saw a huge tarantula next to the trail. I pointed it out to the others as we continued to the Teki hut.
My headhunter was shinning brighter than fresh snow, as it was reflecting the white ground making it a tad difficult to see at time. Upon arriving at the Teki Hut high fives all around for an incident free ride. That was cool, these folks were having a bitchin’ time an’ their attitude was intoxicating. Soon the call was made to get back so off we went. Now the dust was thicker than make-up on a hooker, but there weren’t no hikers or horses to distract you from the chore at hand, night riding. In most cases you travel as fast as day riding but in others you go faster. I find I climb better at night then the day, go figure. We had just went by the dead Milk Ranch an’ began climb the only long big hill out there. I saw what appeared to be a scorpion. I turned my light on it to see, by gum it was. Everyone got a look see at it before it was scooped up in a water bottle to add to someone’s terrarium. As we came to the switchbacks I found another tarantula on the trail. This is sweet. I’m glad Jake isn’t out cause he scares me when he starts a rattling in the dark!
We all gathered at Summit to figure where to go. Some were going to the horse trail, us others were going to the Glider Port. After the split it was, Carroll, Mick, Jon Heffron, Rodger an’ Cindy, Roger Guzman an’ me. We’re haulin’ down Cardiac at a brisk pace, when I see Mick aiming for the horse gate at the bottom. Oh shit I’m thinkin, he ain’t gonna make it! The ol’ Indian trick werked! He went right under it. Shit, I’ll do the same thing. I made it. Next was Carroll. He choked at the last moment skidding off to the side. Hey hey. Mick got him on that one.
Well we proceeded on once a’gin at a brisk pace, Mick pulled out an’ went over the log at the golf course ahead of us. It ain’t his thing I reckon. We waited fer Rog an’ Cindy to show then we took off fer the bridge. You know the one by the horse ranch? It’s six 2 x 6’s nailed end and elevated above a foul smellin’ crick by rusty angle iron. Well me an’ Carroll are in the front shootin’ the shit, banterin’ back an’ forth, carryin’ on like a coupla idjits. When on my right, I hear a grunting ROARH! Like a huge hog or a big dog, hell it coulda been the chupracobra fer all I know, not that I’ve ever heard one before, right next to the trail. I got so scarit all i could do was look with my light an’ pedal. It was Mick! He ambushed us an’ scarit the shit outta me an’ Carroll. My butt puckered so hard I bet made a new crease on my seat folks.
Damned if my heart was a racing like two dogs in heat; meanwhile Carroll was tryin’ to slip in big ring so he could out run me. Mick was a laughin’ like a maniac at a looney bin by now an’ everybody behind us was rollin’ on the floor laughin’ from me an’ John’s misfortune. Damn!
When we came to the bridge me an’ Carroll went over with nary a problem. Then we heard a huge crash! Mick fell off the bridge! We got to hammer on him some but it weren’t nothin’ like he got on me an’ John. After the bridge the spider webs were every where. Seems we had to stop every few feet to remove em so we could ride through. After a small amount of web slingin’ we hooked up on the trail next to Sweetwater an’ motored on back to the parking lot to load up. A fun ride, an’ with things I ain’t ever seen in the wild.
So there you go folks, another adventure in the night.
Hoserr
HoserrSays 