"Scratch any middle-aged mountain-biker," my wife told me the other day, "and underneath you'll find an arrested adolescent."
"Will not," I bawled and stomped into my room.
Given that I had torn the ligaments in my ankle, I hobbled more then stomped, but that's beside the point. It's this injury and the way I did it that has brought my normally patient and understanding wife to near exasperation.
This year I invested in some lights and took up night riding. During these dark winter nights, mountain bikers get their fix by fastening the lights to their bikes and heading into the woods. It's fun. More fun than anyone should have in the middle of the night in the middle of winter, but it can be dangerous.
Trails and obstacles that are easy in the cold light of day can be surprisingly difficult under the shroud of night. And there's a strange attitude that that develops on these rides. Sections of trail that might be intimidating in the light seem worth risking when you can't see what dangers are lurking over the edge or around the corner.
My wife thinks that perhaps I need to grow up a little bit. Maybe I'm not quite made for this kind of thing. She believes that, somehow, my desire to join a group of greying men and to play in the woods at night is hiding something more significant. She thinks that perhaps I'm unwilling to accept that I'm 44 years old, and that I afraid to admit that I can't do everything that I used to.
Phooey, I say. My wife doesn't understand just how much fun riding a bike through trail at night can be. Night riding, unlike day riding, is really a social event; riders stop often to regroup and to talk about the section just ridden.
It's amazingly quiet in the woods at night. Stopping and turning off the lights is eerie, and listening to the grunts and guffaws of your riding party as they bounce through the the trail is both hilarious and surreal. The trails themselves take on new characteristics, and easy trails become difficult. Riding at night isn't about trying to be young, it's about keeping young.
My first nighttime foray into the woods this season left me with an injury that's going to need six weeks to heal. And my new hobby has cost quite a bit. New lights for 90 minutes of riding: $200. Beer over which to tell the story: $10. Aircast to protect the damaged ankle: $80.
Cost of never having to grow old: Priceless.
