May 7th 2023

After one hundred kilometres of variable path through the French Ardennes, we pushed forward on our bikes. I was at the front of the pack, trying desperately to rally my two comrades behind me with what little enthusiasm I could muster. The sun was nearly below the horizon and the surrounding foliage reduced the light to a mere flicker. I was beginning to get the sense that we would not be able to outrun the sunset. Before long, we came to something of a clearing. I raised my head and looked off to my right where, beyond a row of fencing and trees, were three black stallions, galloping alongside me in the dark. All I could hear was the sound of my breath and the thunderous stomping of hooves against the ground. In this moment I forgot where I was, who I was, and who I was with. I felt adrenaline turn to panic as the beasts edged closer and closer to me, until they were right up against the picket fence. Then, all of a sudden they were gone, obscured by forest once more. We forged on.