the vanishing

down the steps, cursing the sanitation. spaced just too far apart for fun, but stick with it, it's about to get good. sneaking right and it all smooths out. time to increase the speed. flashes of green and yellow. the seasons are a changin' but the sun's still out. keep on weaving between the ancient oaks and silver birch.

early morning means dappled trails, the light plays tricks on the ground. hard right. get into the groove and slingshot round. remember to miss that bit of old concrete post, almost hidden by wild flowers. brambles scratch and tall grass tickles, the trail narrows beneath your wheels. short, sharp left. a bit steep, almost a switchback but not quite. more of a chicane. red berries scatter, power out and power on.

you can see where you want to go but, for a split second, the route almost disappears. off camber acorns and hold your nerve. back into the trees. handle bar high nettles line the way. two more swoops and you're done. relish the final twist. get spat back out. onto the yellow dust road.

'the vanishing'. it's less than a quarter of a mile long but it's the best stretch of local dirt and sand. it's nearly perfect, the faster you go the better it is. one more time? yes please.