That One Ride

2. Ravens Point I

Anyone who rode or raced in Berk, knew about Ravens Point. It didn't matter if you rode a bike, car, dirt bike... If you drove, you knew. Ravens Point was where all the races were held. The place was equipped with everything that they needed. A bar, bathrooms, a shop where they could repair their rides right there. And, most importantly, kick ass race tracks.

Ravens Point was actually a peak. The highest peak of four mountains that created a pit. And in the pit, was a small town, with maybe 200 or 300 people, that was named by the same peak. And the people that lived there, made their living by holding these races. They sold the food, rented a few rooms to sleep over if needed, kept it quiet from the authorities, and all was well. The racers got their races, and the folk got their money. A win - win. And you could say the people there got to like the riders who came. Even though they were strangers, they were family in some way.

The first main track was the car track, divided into two parts. The dessert part of the race was next to the town, but still the track ended at the beginning of town. The other half was at the mountain. That part was called The Drift. That part determined the result of the race. It was extremely tricky, with turns that only took one second of distraction to roll out of the race and down the mountain. And those happened.

The second main track, was the dirt bike track. Since it needed dirt, they were held right where the mountains began, near a small river that flowed through there. Contests variated, from who was the fastest to finish the track, to who can pull off the craziest trick. In the end, they were all crazy. The third track is actually a few of short 650 feet tracks that are called Hurdles. Basically, it's where the brief, but pumped races are held. And, the fourth one, was the bike track.

The bike track started at the exit of the town, went a part of one of the roads that led out of Ravens Point, took a turn left from there and then came the tricky part called The Rips, which was actually just a bunch of sharp turns. The track comes back on one of the other roads that lead out, but you take this one towards the town. Five miles of straight road to see who will finish the race as the winner. Now, of course, they used the four roads that lead in and out of Ravens Point as tracks too. There were two short roads and two longer ones. The north and west were the shortest, the south having a bit of a curve to it, while the east one being a long, straight line. Fifteen miles of pure, speed loving, fun. And that, ladies and gentleman, was where all the riders from a hundred mile radius were heading. The people from Berk came here almost every day since it was just a twenty minute drive. But every other Saturday, there was a big event at Ravens Point, called Night of the Red Death. No one knew who came up with the name, or why it stuck, but it didn't matter. That was the night when everything was double or nothing. You either went all in, or you didn't go at all.

Hunter hasn't gone to Ravens Point in a week. He wanted to go out today, but didn't feel like doing much until tonight. So instead, he lounged around in his house with his oversized dog. He checked the clock on the wall, and decided it's time to get ready. He tried to get his dog to move, but the too big, three legged, weird named shepherd dog wouldn't budge.

"Toothless, come on bud, I need to go." The shepherd stayed where he was.

"C'mon, if you let me go, I'll buy you a treat." He seemed to think about it for a moment, before moving off the couch. He thanked him and stood up to get ready. The dog climbed back on the couch and stretched his legs, glad having the entire couch to himself. He rolled his eyes at his dog. "Just don't let dad catch you." He barked lazily as he started to take a nap. Hunter went upstairs to the bathroom and started to undress himself.

As he took off his shirt and threw it to the laundry bin, he saw his appearance in the mirror. The guy he saw was one he didn't recognize. He still couldn't get used to how much he changed. His gaze drifted to his left arm, where his tattoo spread from his shoulder to his wrist. Then it went to his right forearm where another tattoo stood. He still remembers how it stung when he got them. He also remembers how pissed his father was about it. He averted his gaze and took a shower.