Gravity Glide

I kicked off from the crest of the asphalt driveway and cut the throttle. Gravity took over immediately. Standing tall on the serrated footpegs, I let the bike pick up speed down the smooth blacktop slope. Knobby rubber hummed with a low, continuous drone against the sealed tar. No brakes engaged. I leaned hard left into a wide, arcing carve, shifting my hips over the frame, then snapped right to bleed excess momentum through lateral friction alone. The descent leveled out at the concrete apron. Forward roll decayed smoothly to zero, leaving the front tire settled squarely across the expansion seam. Clean glide. Zero propulsion required.