Riding in the New Year
New Years Eve. Yeah, I’ve done my time partying hard, getting drunk, remembering little as I feel like a bag of hammers the first day of the new year. Yawn. Over the years, the tradition of annual debauchery has lost its appeal. While I enjoy a good party as much as the next guy, it’s doing something a bit more memorable on New Year’s Day that interests me, that has become my new tradition. So, after a very uneventful night on duty with Terlingua Fire and EMS, I was looking forward to getting out on the bike today.
Yesterday, e-mails went flying back and forth as the route was debated. Manu really wanted to stick with the original plan; to ride road bikes the 60-something miles from the Terlingua Ghost Town to the Chisos Basin for a beer and back. But with the forecast projecting temperatures no greater than 42/7deg in town, I knew it would be much colder in the mountains; never mind the possibility of rain and snow. Nope, I wanted a mountain-bike ride. With Mark Yuhas on my side, Manu finally relented; “dammit, I hate democracy.”
By 10:30am, we three were on the trails, Mark having already ridden the five miles from home to Desert Sports. Aiming to ride The Perfect Circle, we rode to the Lajitas Trails, opting to complete the Outer Loop in reverse of the normal direction. The first time I’d ever done so. Heading west, we enjoyed the strong tailwinds as we flew over the fast single-track, caring very little for the cold temperatures. However, once we turned and exited Fun Valley, those cold winds only helped to make the next several up-hill miles that much more gruelling. Heads were down, elbows were tucked in and our mouths were silent. Mark’s legs were starting to bark while Manu’s enthusiasm for the climbs was losing it’s bite. For my part, I couldn’t have been happier, though perhaps a bit warmer.
After a few hours riding we arrived at Mark’s house. There, we all enjoyed a bottle of hoppy goodness as we congratulated ourselves for being the only ones hardy–or foolish–enough to show up for a cold New Year’s Day ride. Leaving Mark behind, Manu and I made our way past the abandoned cinnabar mines behind the Ghost Town, rolling into the crowds at the annual Terlingua Black-eyed Pea Off; another desert tradition.
With the memories of 2015 fading as quickly as the light on a winter’s day, Manu, Mark and I revelled in a new tradition; riding across the desert, welcoming the year before us, one turn of the pedals at a time.
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