Mountain ride

Clouds rolled and thunder barked in the distance. Mountains broke the horizon with evergreens providing jagged texture against the smooth blue-grey. Trees swayed beside the trails as eagles surfed the growing gales.  The mountains bore the deep green beauty of late summer. Yellow, purple and white wild flowers jutted up between sharp rocks, worn trails and tall grass.  Laughs and bits of conversation were captured in the deep foliage of the woods as rubber tires attacked the path. Tree roots twisted and turned providing an interesting and, at times, harrowing ascent or descent.  The peek-a-boo sun disappeared altogether behind a wall of threatening clouds. The once blue sky transitioned to charcoal and black.  The forest, sensing the storm was quiet as tires raced through. Labored breathing occasionally broke the silence as hills were scaled. The sharp ping of a rock as it shot between the spokes sounded foreign.  A deer watched silently from the curtain of trees, not concerned but curious.  As the riders slowed, the doe slipped quietly further into the cover of trees and dense growth. The threat of the summer storm was imminent.  Pausing, the riders listened as thunder cracked through the heavens, much closer than when they had arrived.  The next fork in the trail provided the opportunity to change directions.  As if to hasten their return the wind increased and trees began to whip sharply through air.  The clouds stacked up blotting out all blue sky. Tires crunched and gears clicked as riders raced up and down hills.  Rocks and boulders scored the path causing small, deep ravines and mini cliffs.  Riders were silent as they navigated; eyes watching, legs burning and lungs working.  Through drops, turns, hills and narrow paths the trail finally opened up to a little more light and a groomed trail.  The flat path was simple and easy to maneuver, allowing laughter and conversation to resume.  Around the fence and into the lot the riders finished.  The squeak of a tailgate was lost in the burgeoning wind.  There was a sense of urgency as the first of the clouds' fat tears hit the ground.  Quickly bikes were loaded and riders piled in..  As the pickup backed out the wind lashed out and the clouds opened up releasing their sorrow.  Tears splashed the ground, and windshield, quickly wetting the road.  The riders smiled, making their way back down. The cab of the truck was quiet as the wipers kept time with the tears, riders relaxed and full after the mountain ride.