by Jess Evans
April 22, 2019
In case you forgot, Earth Day is April 22. Because we are in full swing Spring mode, I felt dwelling on Spring would be a perfect theme for this post.
Shawn and I rode the Stagecoach 400 in mid-March, when spring was erupting in the southern California desert. There were the familiar night sounds that you hear in Spring, but there was also an eerie silence at times. The first night we were riding amongst the frogs. There was a huge smile spread across my face because I was so delighted. There were so many frogs that we were engulfed in a constant chorus of sound. It was as if someone set up the surround sound speakers and were blaring them. I have been near a small pond with spring peepers in the past, and they were so loud, it almost felt like I was imprisoned by the sound. It was deafening. That first night I also enjoyed the company of a black widow spider in a port-a-john. We were riding around this lake on our way to San Diego, and I kept seeing these white port-a-johns going by. Finally, I thought I had better take advantage of one of them before they were gone. The one I chose was the home to a pretty good size black widow. She had no interest in me, and I observed her shiny black body and red hourglass belly with the light of my headlamp. She was quite lovely. Once back on the trail, there may have been a rabbit or two darting across it throughout the night, but that is just a vague memory to me now.
On the second night when we were dreamily pedaling up long hills, we heard owls in the distance. I was certain some were Western Screech owls, which have a very unique call, like a bouncing ball. I had heard it several years before while running at night on trails in Portland, Oregon. Screech owls are neat birds anyway, so hearing the western screech owl was such a pleasure. Most of that night was so silent though. I was very surprised we did not hear the mournful call or yip from a coyote. I kept looking for eyes in the woods around me thinking they must be out here. I never saw any eyes reflecting back at me.
On the third night, we were riding through the sandy desert of Anza Borrego State Park. We could smell, but not see, the spring wildflowers. It was such a strong floral smell, I wondered how we could not see them along the trail. I could not imagine where those flowers must have been hiding. The most surprising thing about that night as we pushed ourselves onward through the deep sand, was the lack of animal sounds. There appeared to be nothing in the desert. I thought the desert night would be full of life. For a brief time, we did hear a bird make a call over and over again. It did not sound like a night bird to me. I could not identify it, but the call appeared to be from a bird that had its day and night mixed up. No one “talks” that much at night. The next day, as we continued in the desert, the flowers were visible with their lovely aroma still hovering around them.
Each night I spend outside, I experience something new. Traveling at night in a race is always fun and shows me a world that is usually hidden.
