Solo Boggs

Solo??? Excuse me Boss?

Ok its true, I wasn't alone. Miss Swift was more than company, she was my security blanket and faithful companion who shared the short but notable experience. She would see into the night as only I could imagine. She would take to the woods when the two vehicles approached and she marveled in the pure joy of being, momentarily in the realm of magic.

The ghost of a mt. biker in the forest

The original plan for this month's moonride was to have been a combo of the Wednesday Annadel ride and a moonride. However there were few takers in addition to pops getting a rare but sidelining case of some sort of funky low energy, sub migraine/hammered feeling all day. Since both Austin and Danimal were out of town, it was hard to blame it on a hangover. Dr J. was basking in Hawaii. Linz was willing, buy only had that night available before jetting around the globe. It was too bad because the night could not have been nicer. The moon was huge and well into the sky by early evening. The temperature was phenomenally and unseasonably warm. But it was not to be. The Fool's would not be present in bike mode for this lovely eve.

Geezer on the trail

Thursday, the official full moon passed. It was another phenomenal day, with one notable exception. That was the day that I learn of the passing of Bruce Windhorst, a local road rider and fellow bikin' fool. He was a gregarious and upbeat guy with a pleasant twinkle in his eye. He was fluid with talk and quick to laughter. His wit and wisdom were infectious and appreciated. He was 59 and change when he keeled over on a ride and passed beyond the fray, beyond the magic and into the cosmos. In a life full of impossible-to-ignore distractions, it is a scramble at best to keep all of the attendant aspects of one's existence in harmony. In that process Bruce, as so many others, found peace, success and liberation in spinning the pedals and propelling himself across the landscape. The struggle, the toil, the work melts into the background in this simple activity of bicycling. Right on, Bruce. You chose a noble portal to take your exit. Of all the possible options, it was a nice touch.

The lonely journey

So Friday rolled around and I was still feeling less than 100 per cent. But a combination of boredom and sheer seduction drew me to Boggs. I rode out road 500 all the way to the campground. By then I was feeling much better about everything. The woods were lovely. Several different night creatures squawked, chirped and hooted in the dark (to me) forest. There were campers. One dog keyed on us and barked vociferously until we passed sufficient to his satisfaction. We turned at the campground with the idea of riding to the upper camp. Two things prevented that. First an old pick up approached. Swift and I dodged off into the wood, out of sight. The truck proceeded to perform several donuts before speeding uphill, tires spinning, engine roaring towards the upper camp. Second we could hear the sound of music at high volume emitting from the campground.

Coast is clear, let's go Boss

We elected to stay on jeep trails. We turned away from the upper camp and headed towards the intersection of Karen's and Crew Trail. The road was easy. There was ample light for the road, but scant lumens for the adjacent forest. We rode uphill until the road leveled. Just as we passed one of the joining single tracks, I though I heard another vehicle. It seemed unlikely since we were in a more remote area, well off the main drag. Then lights began to appear. Again Swift and I scrambled off the road and onto the single track. Another pick up, this one with lots of lights and likely being driven by Rambo on a mission. It passed. At that point we decided to stay on the single track even though it was difficult to see much, at least for me. Several times I had Swift go in front. She sees the trail much better than I.

A Bikin' salute to La Luna

Though slower and more tedious, the woods and single track provided a much more intimate experience with the enchantment of the environment. I must thank Miss Swift. Without her I have to admit I would have been much more uptight about the lions, tigers and bears. But with her calm and engaged state of being in the woods, she made it much easier for my feeble mind to settle into the beauty. We didn't ride long. Eventually we came back to jeep roads and descended back to the car at the helicopter pad. It was a far cry from the ragin' epic rides that have occurred at Boggs, but it was a short sentimental journey to a place we love. The Palace of La Luna.