Insert Your Insult To The French Here

*** continued from previous post ***

Anyway, we eventually got on the bike and I managed not to kill us getting out of the parking lot. Boo Yah!

100 kilo-yards from the Lodge and all was going fine until we hit the main road. Funny, and I'm just telling you this in case you find yourself in a similar situation, torrential rains on the gravel road had left it - squooshy. Oh, and slick. So when I turned the bike and we hit that wide gravel path the back of the bike wanted to go north, while the front was headed east.

Unfortunate really, because I wanted all of us to go west.

After a few moments that your mom would later describe as 'some crazy slippin' and slidin'', I managed to get the bike fairly upright, mostly upright, and pointed generally in the right direction. The problem was that there were two narrow tracks, the width of a car tire, that were navigable. To either side was soft, soft gravel and certain death. No, I exaggerate. Soft, soft gravel and certain painful injury. So when I say I was careful, you know I mean that I was nail-biting, teeth-grinding, shoulder-cramping careful.

I managed to relax after a bit, hitting the rhythm of the bike and the road. The cold hardly bothered me at all. Hardly. Mostly. The sun had taken a permanent break long before we geared up, and now the day was not only gray but misty again. I suppose it would have been enchanting if I were in a car, with a heater. But alas, I was on a big-honkin' bike with a mesh jacket and a little woman behind me that at the first signs of me being frozen would lean forward and say, 'told you so.'

Still, it was marginally better than staying in the room, and we did happen to spot moose butt slipping into the trees on the side of the road at one point, so. . . not a total loss.

We'd been cruising for a time when two things became apparent:
One - it was beginning to rain again.
Two - the road was getting worse the farther we traveled from the Lodge.
C - I was unable to feel anything below my neck.

I don't know how I managed to steer the bike. I have a theory. You know how they say when you lose one sense, the others become heightened and make up for it? Evidently since my entire body was numb, my psychic abilities had taken over, allowing me to corner and accelerate solely with THE POWER OF MY MIND.

"Honey, why don't we call it a day before you get so cold you can't remember your A B 7s" Mom asked. "Okay?"

What heresy was this? I had not yet seen a bear. Defeat was not in my vocabulary. But I was going to look it up and add it in as soon as we got home because I was really cold.

“Yeah. I guess we might as well. I was just hoping that we would get to see . . . more wildlife."

Mom leaned forward and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, clasping her hands below my neck. Her visor clinked on the back of my helmet. "You mean you wanted to see another bear."

I laughed. "Yeah I did. A little."

Had I been that obvious? After careful consideration I decided that more than likely I had. Subtlety was also not in my vocabulary. Hmmm . . . if you added those two ‘not in my vocabulary’ words together you would almost have a sentence. A subtle defeat. It's one where you lose but no one really notices. That's my kind of defeat right there.

Two. . . three . . . four . . . In this space you may insert an insult geared towards the French with my blessing. Way too easy for a pro such as myself.

"I'm sorry sweetie," she said patting me on the back. "Maybe next time."

See? This is why I adore your Mother. How many women, after being on the journey I'd put your mom through, would even consider a 'next time'. That girl’s got spunk I tell you! I think she's a keeper.



Buy The Book At Amazon! $14.95
Kindle Version $ 2.99
Nook $4.99

*** the journey continues ***