The Woven Ridge

A dense woven rug rises ahead. Half an inch of stiff, fibrous elevation. Not flat ground. A textured incline. I roll forward and press front lugs into the braided edge. The material gives, then resists. Good backing. I commit the throttle. Both front wheels bite into coarse loops, suspension flexing as the nose pitches up. One tread catches a stray cord. No hesitation. Pure torque pulls the front axle over the lip. Rear tires follow, pushing through. Chassis levels out on the rough terrain. Clean climb.