It all came back to me, why I'm here again. Why I come back here every spring.
The warmth of the sun. The smooth black ribbon of never ending road. The impossibly vast and bleak landscape.
Being able to throw on only a single layer of clothing before heading out for a ride.
The challenge of long miles. The futility of strong headwinds. The exhilaration of that same wind gust, now at my back and making 30 mph seem (almost) effortless.
Friends that I only see once a year, those of us who know exactly why we're all here.
And this year, a new group of Death Valley riders, who bring a new energy and enthusiasm and another way of experiencing this place, at this time. It truly is a privilege.