Demon Ride

It has been sometime since I've navigated silent forests in the black of night. Tuesday night I geared up, and took off for one of my local haunts; light and gear in tow, adventure on the mind. It is funny really; millions of years of natural selection have programmed us to be wary of the dark, originally for very good reasons. Danger often lurked outside the protective glow of the campfire, hungry beasts much more adapted for the night than us waited for our mistakes. Those of us who heeded the warnings lived to pass on this gene, a healthy fear of darkness. However, we no longer live on the Savannah, and there are no lions in Bellingham but I still feel the pull, the suspicion that behind each tree lays waiting a danger, something unknown and sinister waiting for me to stop, for my light to go out. The beast, though imaginary, serves as my drive. At night in the forest I ride hard, I flow with speed between the trees and through the corners always staying a few feet ahead of the monster. I love the Demon Rides.