Riding at Night, in Michigan

 A couple nights ago I hopped on my bike after dinner and went for a ride. And I rode and rode and rode.

I know this doesn’t sound unusual. I work in a bike shop and I ride often—except lately after work and after eating dinner I more likely opt for a walk, keeping nearby. While riding I was reminded of my evening rides in Oregon.

Though I was only in Oregon for 9 months—they still feel magical. The weather there is dry and after the rainy season stays that way, until, again, the rains come. Thus, in the evening I could depend on being able to get out in the still abundant sunshine. I’d often ride 2 – 3 nights a week. I’d go out along Amazon Creek where there was a bike path leading west. It was then that I got the full effect of living in a valley. I could see in the distance the bumps on the horizon representing the Cascades and in the west the coastal range. I lived in Eugene in what was called the Emerald Valley—because grass or sod was grown. To be honest many things are grown in the valley—not the least—filberts, nuts on trees.

I miss those night bike rides.

I also recall flying down the hill by my daughter’s house to go home at night with only the sweep of my front headlight guiding the way—until I reached the arc lights of downtown.

I know I’m romanticizing it. Often I was tired after a long day and resisted the magic. At the bike shop in the spring we were more than overwhelmed with customers and service requests. I was on my feet ALL day. Then there was the struggle to get uphill to where Grace lived if I was going up there to see her and the baby. But n the rearview mirror it all feels so warm and the light filled with that pollen dust that filters and casts an orange glow. Or the eerie eyes of deer munching off the bike path as I turned a corner in the dark—hoping the deer were off to the side as I careened down.

My evening ride in Michigan was not as fraught. I did see deer and bunnies, there were vernal ponds in fields and in the woods. There were the dog walkers spreading over and taking up most of the path. But it was the air and the slant of light that brought me back to Oregon—and to my memories.

Good to be back.