White Nights

If you can't see the cliff you are riding on, does it actually exist? Sedona's most notorious in the dark. #followcamfriday

Riding and filming the infamous White Line has been done to death. Mountain biking is evolving rapidly and this sort of thing is becoming more common. Not that I am suggesting you go ride it however... This line is spooky, to say the least. I am all about pushing boundaries, both mental and physical, so adding some darkness into the equation seemed like the logical choice. Can you really fear what you cannot see?

l have ridden this more than 50 times. Maybe 100. I still never take it for granted, because if I am being honest, you actually can die, but let's just say that I have become all too comfortable with this sort of thing. I enjoy exposure. Not for the camera, but for my mental state. Somehow cheating death is pleasing and stimulating to me. My adrenals have been used to the max for many years, and honestly, it takes this sort of thing to get me fired-up anymore. That fact in itself, is a scary prospect.  

The classic sky line from chicken point. Gaping area of many slack-jawed tourists as their Pink Jeep tour guide tells them that people ride their bikes on that formation. We are those people. I feel like a tourist attraction at times up there with 50 people gawking at us as we risk our lives for our own amusement. But the night. The night is different. Darkness and silence replace the chaos found during the day. 

Lars went first. This was a 77 second exposure taken from below. It's reasonably sharp as I was holding my breath for most of it. It's stressful to watch your best friend and his headlamp on the cliff above you. Never have I felt so helpless in the moment. This must be how the tourists feel. Now I understand. 

Fucking surreal. Not sure that there is an eloquently written sentence that can do this feeling more justice. I'll just leave it at that. 

Look closely. Yup, that is a javelina running willy-nilly down the middle of the trail,  mere inches from Lars' front tire. I guess there is a first time for everything. The creatures come out at night, as the saying goes. Interestingly enough, when I think about this night, I remember the pig sighting more than riding the White Line. Somehow it just meant more. Over the course of the evening my emotional state went from terror, to relief, to pure excitement for our encounter with nature. Emotional rollercoaster, to put it lightly.

And then we went to Lars' house and drank wine. Lots of wine. Some people drink to forget, we drink to celebrate a life full of surreal experiences that most will never have the privilege or motivation to experience. This isn't everyone's cup of tea after all. But for Lars and I, this night will never be forgotten. Oh the places my bicycle takes me. I am very fortunate. 
​In case you wondered, we had bacon for breakfast.