For some people, riding begins when the twilight appears. Those nocturnal riders aren't quite as few as you'd think either. Some folks are just so focused on jumping that they continue grinding gears right on through the night. The "Dirt Pile" teams with life up until the wee hours (or the quiet curfew which ever comes first), complete with not only riders but also spectators eager to see big air or to be on hand to pick up the pieces after less than perfect landings.
As nine O'clock draws close, riders who don helmet lights or who have piercing spot lights strapped to their handlebars converge upon the "Red Tent" to assemble for one of the organized night rides. The group that ultimately arrives, hungry for night time excitement, is too large for one mass group ride. The ride leaders decide that it is in the interest of safety to split the congregation in two, each half inherits five ride leaders. As the leaders have a few words with their respective posses, the Massachusetts darkness is unbroken, save for the pinholes punctured in the sky by the bevy of stars. Then all at once, a herd of fireflies flare up, the night comes to life. Night riders peel off to venture into the blackness of the Berkshire forest.
In the background a beat emanates from the cafeteria tent, the bass and drums setting the pulse for the evening. Rock n' Roll comes from the trail and feeds onto the stage. Plum Crazy and Alien Shore are the entertainment du jour, all the while, bicycles fly through the air as guitar tempos rise and the dance floor becomes a frenzy. Energy feeds from the crowd, 1000's of young, fit bodies gyrate through the night.
For the first time all day the vendor alley is calm and mellow. All life sinks away from the row which was astir with commerce the majority of the day. The sun sets on an exciting day (and night) at Pedrosfest. And, as the festival draws to a close you find yourself getting ready to book your campsite for next year.