When the jack-o’-lanterns dim and the wind files its complaint with the trees, we discover we are not alone. The wheelievers ride with a quiet escort—the communion of bearings: grandmothers who believed in sensible sidewalks, uncles fluent in torque, neighbors whose porch lights were policy. They do not cancel physics; they respect it. They whisper Occam to our line choice, Bayes to our autumn assumptions, and nod approvingly when the white-gloved deacon of pushback lifts the nose.

So we calibrate our PSI to the season, tell the footpad the whole truth (heel and toe), tithe our downhills with regen, and make room on the power strip. Can we enter slower than pride wants so we may exit faster than fear expects? Yes, we glide. And in that gentle, shared momentum, ghosts become guides, parking lots become parishes, and the path—leaf-strewn, imperfect—carries us home.

The Wheel caught a mountain-bike spirit and dragged me into singletrack I’d never sworn to—berms licking their lips, rock gardens speaking in Strava tongues, dips and roots lining up to baptize me headfirst. Pushback lifted the nose like a white-gloved deacon and at last I bowed: I lowered my summer-proud PSI, told the footpad the whole truth (heel and toe), softened my knees, and prayed the Wheeliever’s Prayer—“Not by KOMs but by contact patch.” The spirit shrieked, clips unclipped, and fled to haunt someone with 140mm of travel. My board sighed unpossessed, regen glowed +2% like stained glass, and the church lot lights called me home.

On the Fall Equinox, when daylight and darkness split the ride 50/50, the wheelievers gather to recentre feet, PSI, and pride. “Magnetic pushback” becomes the firmware of grace, damp leaves reveal themselves as cinnamon-scented traps, and a humble speed bump doubles as an altar. Low battery speaks like a prophet (“Prepare ye the charging cable”), while the Autumn Commandments remind us to honor chargers, heed the cold, and carve with humility. This satirical homily blesses bearings, patches egos, and sends wheelievers forth in peace.