Nine beautiful miles of wonderful, rolling dunes. Complete with gnarly razor backs, short flat straits, dead drops, nasty peaks and everything in between. I had plenty of gas to go as fast as I wanted. Great headlights to see and a riding buddy to make it that much safer. At night everything changes.
Hills look steeper.
Sand looks vague. It's much more mysterious and seems much more dangerous. As dark as it was we rode parallel the highway about a mile into the dunes, because that's where the good sand starts. With careful timing and planning, picking out each hill and guessing or remembering what's on the other side somehow comes naturally. Overshooting the top of the hills had become part of the thrill to let me see if there was a way to make a wonderful loft and a perfect landing.