Where The Hell Is The 'Hover' Button?
*** continued from previous post ***
I tried to look on the positive side. I was grateful there would be witnesses. If I couldn't live to tell the story myself at least there would be others that would share the tale of our passing as a cautionary fable.
We may even eclipse the 'motorcycle hits grizzly' anecdote and become legends of the Rockies. Two Bikers from THE STATES eaten by a bear. It would work on so many levels. It had all the elements. Foreigners. (Which immediately means they are stupid and unaware of the local ways.) Anti-Green. (For we had been riding a loud, gas-guzzling two wheeled death machine.) Stupid. (This would be self evident after we'd been eaten.) Put them together and you have a frame-work for a fine, fine morality tale. Foreigners. Anti-Green. Stupid.
This is not exactly how I had pictured myself attaining fame, but beggars can't be choosers. If my 15 minutes came in the form of a Darwin Award, so be it.
Mom started poking me in the shoulder. First with her finger, then with her whole hand. "Go. Go. GO!"
While this was excellent advice, it was also easy for her to say. She wasn't in control of a huge piece of machinery pointing in the wrong direction. My reflexes kicked in. Without even thinking I pulled in the clutch with my left hand, braced my legs against the blacktop and pushed backwards with all my might away from the bear and away from the tangle of cars.
If I could get enough room I would pull us around in the tightest u-turn possible given the length of the bike and the rake of the forks. As I've told you before usually when I back the bike up like this your mom likes to get off and watch from a safe distance. I fear this is a trust issue but I won’t' get into that right now. I thought she probably wouldn't mind just holding on during this delicate maneuver so I didn't offer to let her off the back. Wise choice. The bike rolled back a bit and I once again braced my legs pushing with all my might.
Sweat poured from my forehead. A few more feet and I would clear the cars. Spaceship bike my ass! Where in the hell was the 'hover' button on this thing anyway?
Buy The Book At Amazon! $19.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99
*** the journey continues ***
I tried to look on the positive side. I was grateful there would be witnesses. If I couldn't live to tell the story myself at least there would be others that would share the tale of our passing as a cautionary fable.
We may even eclipse the 'motorcycle hits grizzly' anecdote and become legends of the Rockies. Two Bikers from THE STATES eaten by a bear. It would work on so many levels. It had all the elements. Foreigners. (Which immediately means they are stupid and unaware of the local ways.) Anti-Green. (For we had been riding a loud, gas-guzzling two wheeled death machine.) Stupid. (This would be self evident after we'd been eaten.) Put them together and you have a frame-work for a fine, fine morality tale. Foreigners. Anti-Green. Stupid.
This is not exactly how I had pictured myself attaining fame, but beggars can't be choosers. If my 15 minutes came in the form of a Darwin Award, so be it.
Mom started poking me in the shoulder. First with her finger, then with her whole hand. "Go. Go. GO!"
While this was excellent advice, it was also easy for her to say. She wasn't in control of a huge piece of machinery pointing in the wrong direction. My reflexes kicked in. Without even thinking I pulled in the clutch with my left hand, braced my legs against the blacktop and pushed backwards with all my might away from the bear and away from the tangle of cars.
If I could get enough room I would pull us around in the tightest u-turn possible given the length of the bike and the rake of the forks. As I've told you before usually when I back the bike up like this your mom likes to get off and watch from a safe distance. I fear this is a trust issue but I won’t' get into that right now. I thought she probably wouldn't mind just holding on during this delicate maneuver so I didn't offer to let her off the back. Wise choice. The bike rolled back a bit and I once again braced my legs pushing with all my might.
Sweat poured from my forehead. A few more feet and I would clear the cars. Spaceship bike my ass! Where in the hell was the 'hover' button on this thing anyway?
Buy The Book At Amazon! $19.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99
*** the journey continues ***
Labels: death, Grizzly, Victory Vision
posted by David M at
8:45 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Keep it nice or I release the Zombies.
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home