Adrenaline pumping, heart racing, mind focused only on one thing, this trail. Pumping my crank as fast as it goes, I speed past Eric. Quickly I glance over my left shoulder to see what happens next, but I'm too late.
"Eric let's go that way instead." I point to a plain dirt trial as we stop on our mountain bikes to grab a quick refreshing drink.
"It says no trespassing. Clear as day. . .right there." Eric says while pointing directly to the sign. It's widely posted on a big oak tree, made from a thin sheet of walnut, painted white, with two big red words stenciled on it, NO TRESPASSING.
"Yeah, but it's two miles closer to town. The one we are taking is about four." I say as we finish our drinks and put the bottles back in our bags.
"No! How do you know?" Eric, always having that tone as if I don't know what I'm talking about. He throws his bag over his shoulders, as so did I. We rest back onto our seats.
"My dad use to take me out here when I was younger. He had a desire for nature and wanted me to get the feel of it also. The feeling of the wind lathering all over your skin. Aliveness sprouting after inhaling clean fresh oxygen. The relaxing sensation you get after the trees sooth you with comfortable music, played by the wind, shuffling off through the leaves. A welcoming pull, as if you belong here. I remember that trail perfectly, (as I point to it) the oak tree, the sign, everything. It doesn't have all the rocks and bumps and holes and chaos as the other ones." I answer.
Eric doesn't say anything. Instead, he stares at the trail, then back at me.
"Eric. . .we've been riding for hours. I want out of these woods as bad as you. Might as well take a short cut, right?"
"Race ya!" He says in a cocky tone. And as before he touches his peddle, I ride off without muttering another word. Eric passes me after a few pumps, its because he has a Redline, I still have a Huffy.
The start of this trail is wide enough to fit four riders, as any other trail in these deserted woods. The father you get, the smaller this trail narrow downs to a dead end. Of all the trails in these woods, this trail, doesn't lead to town. Off to the center of this woods it goes, about a mile deep.
My dad has never been the one to show me these woods. Actually, I haven't seen my dad since I was eight. A lot of adults have talked about these woods in a worrying tone. All of them would tell you to stay away. Saying you could get lost and end up coming across hungry wild animals, or the fact that it is too far from town, or the other fact that you could get severely hurt because of the random pot holes. Being the inquisitive person I am, that made me want to come out to these woods even more, since they've always grabbed my attention. Always fishing around for excuses to let my mom give me more play time outside - only to come to these woods. . .alone, to apprehend them.
This trail is the main thing I study. Leading to the center of these woods, I know there is a reasoning behind it. I have puzzled it for too long, it's time I make my own reason. For being fourteen I sure know more about these woods than I do my own self sometimes.
"Hey. . .this trail is getting smaller!" Eric shouts back, as he continues to peddle in front of me. Always needing to be ahead, that's Eric for you.
"A small hill comes up shortly, it will spread out again. About another mile after that". I yell towards him.
No voices, only the sound of tires scuffing through dry dirt. Finally my time is coming, no turning back now. Thinking about it gets my mind wired. My heart races to my stomach, leaving me nervous. . . sickly nervous.
The sight of the hill makes my hair rise off my body. My blood rages in warmth. A cool breeze covers me with a thin blanket, making it feel as the temperature dropped, making it. . . the perfect mixture. Secretly, I've craved this my whole life, desperately craved.
