You go left, which shows that something with pointed feet chased a biker and has not returned.
The trail winds left and then right, always going uphill, until you see an old house. It looks more like a hut than a house; it is entirely made from miscellaneous branches and tree roots. There is no door, just a black rectangle through which darkness yawns within the one-room building; the bike trail ends here as though the rider set down the bike and walked inside.
Once your eyes adjust, you notice a very thick book: yellow, hard-backed. The book is entitled, in shiny blue letters, Do Not Open. It was certainly a good choice for a title: the author is using reverse psychology to get the reader to open the book, right?
**This is where trails are mixed and paths are woven, Now is the place of a road newly chosen. **