Someone, but No-one

 Shushing down the long trail, I had reached the point where it drops down into that narrow basin, crosses and rises up the other side. Same as always. Right at that point, and unlike every other time I have ever ridden this trail, I heard a sound behind me. It sounded like someone was coming down through the curves fast, faster than me, and would overtake at any second. I heard that same shushing sound my own tires were making on the soft dirt surface but, unlike my bike, nothing else, no freewheel, no chainslap, no rattles. I didn't think it odd until later. I cleared the bottom of the basin and up the other side, then pulled off the trail, expecting the mystery rider to come shooting past.

I turned to see who the rider was - nothing came shushing past but the evening breeze. There was no one to see but the setting sun. The rider had been close and should have been in view, but there was no one. I gave an involuntary shiver and got the heck out of there.

Just when you think things have got back to late summer normal, they turn the taps back on, water gushing into the channel again, both top and bottom. The basin below the bottom end of Tin Can Alley is being filled by an irrigation ditch I have never seen water in, flowing across the, before now, dry rocky crossing. That basin has overflowed into the next one down as well - there are going to be unrideable sections of trail for some time. But that's okay - we need the water to recharge the aquifer as it is supposed to. Lets face it, that land could have houses on it, and acres of asphalt and concrete. The PVPA's mission is being grandly fulfilled this year, and we should be thankful for that.

someone, but no one?

just starting to fill

inflow

I had to block out the sun somehow