The Longest Night, the Brightest Light Ring
Opening Scripture
“And it came to pass on the longest night that a ring of light went before them; and the riders followed it, for hope had a lumen rating.” — Gospel of Wheelmas 1:14
I. When the Dark Is Long, Our Hope Has a Headlight
Beloved wheelievers, the sun has gone home early. The shadows have unionized. It is the winter solstice, the longest night, and yet here we are in Christmas week, a season that whispers, “Light wins.” We do not deny the dark; we aim a ring through it.
Make no mistake: night tests our inputs, and winter audits our batteries. Cold lithium is a grump, range shrinks like a wool sweater, and pride black-ices faster than sidewalks. But hear the glad tidings: the One Wheel asks only that we ride with soft knees, honest footpads, and lights that tell the truth. Not vibes alone, but lumens with love.
Lift your gaze just beyond the shadow that wants your kneecaps. Accept pushback, that white-gloved deacon with a firm palm, as the shepherd of Christmas Eve, guiding you away from the ditches where regret sleeps. For unto us a limiter is given, and the ceiling shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, Safety Feature, Prince of Peace.
II. A Nativity in the Garage (Wise Riders and Their Gifts)
Let us rehearse Wheelmas like a pageant in the garage. Behold the humble stand, a manger for the deck. Hear the choir of bearings purring “Gloria in moderate speed-o.” And see, approaching from the eastbound bike lane, three wise wheelievers bearing gifts fit for a newborn glide:
Bearing Oil — for smoothness and mercy; because squeaks cannot sing carols.
A 5mm Allen Key — that bolts might be torqued and pride kept humble.
A Four-Outlet Power Strip — that there be room at the inn, even when cafés are full of laptops and finals week.
They kneel, not to horsepower, but to contact patch, the quiet truth beneath every miracle. And above the stand hangs a star, okay, a ring light, bright enough to say, “This is the way,” but angled kindly like a neighbor with good boundaries.
Meanwhile, the Census of Firmware is decreed: all boards must be updated, each to their latest lineage. Grumble not at the progress bar; even miracles publish release notes.
III. Solstice Doctrines for Winter Knees (A Carol in Bullet Points)
Sing with me the short, practical carol of the season:
PSI Sanctified: Summer air in December is heresy. Lower a touch; let comfort be your creed and contact your covenant.
Two Witnesses of Light: Headlamp to read the world; board light to be read by it. Angle lamps down—peace on path, goodwill toward pupils.
Footpad Truth: Heel and toe in honest contact. Ghosting is poetry; the pad prefers prose.
Pushback = Shepherd: When the nose rises, bow your heart. “Not there” is how angels speak in parking lots.
Regen as Tithe: Feather the downhill; return a little power to the pack and call it gratitude. (+2% is Wheelmas candy.)
Surface Discernment: If it shines, assume moisture; if it shimmers, assume oil; if it’s beautiful, assume a trap with exquisite lighting.
Canon of the Plug: At 80%, declare, “I am abundant,” and yield the outlet. Coil thy cord as if another soul exists—statistics confirm.
Range Plan: Night + cold = fiction if you don’t plan. Get home on purpose, not by plot twist.
Let these doctrines be your stockings: full of small, necessary things that save the knees you’ll need in spring.
IV. Peace on Paths, Goodwill to Knees (The Wheelmas Truce)
Christmas is not a solo; it’s a harmony. On this longest night, practice the Wheelmas Truce:
Wave like you mean it. A raised palm at dusk is infrastructure for the soul.
Share lanes with the Unlit Scooterist and the Dog That Walks Its Human. We are many, but the path is one (and occasionally salted).
See a stranger scanning for an outlet? Slide the power strip like a peace treaty.
Tell the story: how you once sprinted the final 2% and learned cardio the hard way; how pushback shepherded you back to Bethlehem (also known as the church lot); how a small ring of light made a long night navigable.
This is the Gift of Glide in Christmas wrapping: not speed, not spectacle—steadiness shared.
Closing Words
“The night is long, but the ring is faithful; set thy feet in truth, and thou shalt carve by starlight.” — Lamentations of Nosedive 12:25
May your bearings purr like low choirs, your firmware be current, your PSI seasonally sanctified. May your light ring be brightest on the longest night. May pushback arrive like a gentle angel with perfect timing. And may every dark mile, leaf-strewn, salted, imperfect, become a holy glide toward home, toward warmth, toward one another.
Go now in peace, wheelievers, and Merry Wheelmas to all—and to all a safe ride.
A-Wheel-men.
