Batty

The bats were out in full force in Tucson Mountain Park last night. Paula and friends were watching a bit of olympic coverage, so I decided to make a night ride out of the trip out there. I’m normally hardly interested in TV, even the olympics, but I had some external reasons for not wanting to hang around too long at home.

Let’s just say I’m someone who enjoys my personal space, and after having so much space riding my bike for 40 days, the need has only intensified.

Paula’s nephew and sister are here, which is great… in small doses. To give you an idea of the nephew, think Dennis the Menace. Whatcha doing, Scott? If I’m doing anything, from applying rim tape to a wheel (exciting) to unplugging a computer cable, it’s interesting and needs to be watched and queried. I suppose curiousity is a good thing, but I’m reminded of one of the big reasons I became so enthralled with cycling as a young lad: SPACE. When it’s at a premium, I’d head out on a ride and suddenly I could hear myself think and no longer needed to worry about invading other people’s space/desires/expectations (and the reverse). It’s just me and the open world.

So it was last night, cycling through the dark streets of Tucson (due to half a dozen observatories in the vicinity, Tucson is a dark place). I climbed “A” mountain, watching hordes of horny teenagers drive up to, uh, check out the view. I turned off onto the Sentinel Ridge trail and at the top met a cyclist on a road (?!) bike enjoying the evening. Turns out this guy knows MR Sadow, and has a great interest in riding/exploring in Mexico (having guided people in Copper Canyon in the past). It seemed like a likely member for our Sonora-to-Chihuahua expedition(s) this fall.

I bounced down the rock-rock road off Tumomoc Hill still on LED light, then pedaled towards Starr Pass. The traffic was unbelievable. But let’s see, it’s Friday night, so in order to (in)validate any feelings of inadequacy, anyone who is anyone is at least “out” and “doing something.” So of course this means driving, because, how else are you going to “do anything?”

I quickened the pace to get off the dark road quickly, then began climbing off Shannon Road, headed for the park. I stopped at the top of the climb where I found what I was looking for: silence. So I sat a while.

I put on my ‘real’ light, caught the attention of some bats, then headed off down the trail into the Starr Pass basin. It was a wonderful night. My tires crunched below me, rolling smooth as I glided through the still night air. To my left shoulder was the bright crescent moon, over my right was the hum of the city.

More glowing red eyes on the trail and in cactus: bats. It was just me and the bats out there tonight.

Back down into Starr Pass, Scott’s apartment and some TV. Then Paula and I cycled at midnight through even darker Tucson, wary of the intoxication level that is inevitable in this town. We watched our backs untill we got onto neighborhood roads where we enjoyed our first extended conversation since school started. Bikes are surprisingly good for talking.

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This morning I rode around on the rivertrail with Dennis. It was a nice ride. He’s getting better at riding the Tandum [sic]–learning when NOT to lean. We walked around in the Rillito checking out the huge cracking mud and marveling at how solid the sand was. His questions were many, but none were of the annoying kind. He has enthusiasm for life and a curiousity that cannot be denied. It’s just unfortunate that most people lose this, what, about the time they grow up?