Luckily, my head's already shaved
Because I'm terrible at managing time, I had to ride into downtown Oly around midnight last night. After dropping off my rent check, I fought the temptation to find out if what I'd heard about McCoy's Tavern on a Thursday was true and hustled home instead.
By the day, the Western Chehalis Trail is a verdant secret highway for cyclists heading north and south. By night, looming trees block out the moon, stars and streetlights, leaving my wind-up bike lamp to deal with the pitch black all on its own. I could ride that trail a thousand times and still be a little creeped out about blasting down a dark road behind thin LED light no steadier than my handlebars.
While doing just that last night, I ran into a bat. A fucking bat! A hill had cranked up my speed, and I just had time to see it gliding down through my lamp light before it bounced off my chest! I hollered, I faltered, I managed to stay upright. Down the trail a ways, I stopped and made sure it hadn't clung to my backpack in order to sneak into my apartment and eat my eyes while I slept.
Between 38th and 45th, I rode up on a gang of raccoons up to no good in the middle of the trail. They scattered in every direction; some ran right at me before veering off. I about tipped over while dodging raccoon - they probably planned this as the opening move in some sort of eye-eating scheme. But I stayed up and was soon alone again. By now, my lamp was in need of another winding and growing very dim. For the first time since I've been riding Western Chehalis, I was stoked to get back to the road with all its very civilized motorists.
There's signs that say Western Chehalis closes after dark, but it never made sense to me cuz I've never seen it get blocked off. Turns out the Parks Department doesn't need to. When the sun goes down, the critters swarm that trail.
By the day, the Western Chehalis Trail is a verdant secret highway for cyclists heading north and south. By night, looming trees block out the moon, stars and streetlights, leaving my wind-up bike lamp to deal with the pitch black all on its own. I could ride that trail a thousand times and still be a little creeped out about blasting down a dark road behind thin LED light no steadier than my handlebars.
While doing just that last night, I ran into a bat. A fucking bat! A hill had cranked up my speed, and I just had time to see it gliding down through my lamp light before it bounced off my chest! I hollered, I faltered, I managed to stay upright. Down the trail a ways, I stopped and made sure it hadn't clung to my backpack in order to sneak into my apartment and eat my eyes while I slept.
Between 38th and 45th, I rode up on a gang of raccoons up to no good in the middle of the trail. They scattered in every direction; some ran right at me before veering off. I about tipped over while dodging raccoon - they probably planned this as the opening move in some sort of eye-eating scheme. But I stayed up and was soon alone again. By now, my lamp was in need of another winding and growing very dim. For the first time since I've been riding Western Chehalis, I was stoked to get back to the road with all its very civilized motorists.
There's signs that say Western Chehalis closes after dark, but it never made sense to me cuz I've never seen it get blocked off. Turns out the Parks Department doesn't need to. When the sun goes down, the critters swarm that trail.