This summer, after years of holding out, I finally got a new mountain bike. Pedaling it around the store, it handled bunny hops like a champ, cornered well, wasn’t too heavy and was a good value. One thing stuck out though..It was all white. I’ve never owned anything white in my life. If I was caucasian I might very well be considered goth for all the darkness in my closet. So I was a bit beside myself about purchasing this bright shiny trinket that reflected the sun with mutual intensity. Eventually I got over it & the whiteness grew on me. When I rode with friends and took a break, I knew exactly where my bike was in the pile. Opening the garage, she stared back at me, beckoning for a rescue from that dark hole to go spin and get dirty. In a sense, I was lured by the bright side, it was a seduction I had to share. So I did a photoshoot with the athletes and bikes in all white. I broke out flashes, smoke, and pulled out the stops for my newfound monochrome love affair.