Was That a #@$%ING Jeep?

*** continued from previous post ***


So there we were with no place to go but up.

Pardon my language, but I worked that bitch. Slipping and sliding, keeping a fast enough speed that I could corner but not so fast as to shake us off the bike. Watching out for the big rocks, the ruts, and whatever else came my way. I completely lost track of time. All that existed for me was the 30 feet in front of the bike, and the bike itself. We had melded into one. I felt every change in balance, every bump, every twist, and growl, and groan from the engine. I fought to keep the bars from being wrenched from my hands.

I worried about your Mom. I worried about wrecking in a place like this. Visions of a helicopter rescue tried to invade my thoughts but then the rear of the bike would slip sideways, and I was brought back to the here and now. And the rain. . . the rain would not let up. At times I couldn't see through the fog. I finally flipped my shield up and let the water hit me full in the face.

Then . . . Joy! For what did I see? Three Jeeps headed DOWN the mountain. I had time for one thought to cross my mind; Well, this was going to get interesting. In a hurry.

To this day I don't know how we made it. Passing those Jeeps with inches to spare, so close I could see the slack-jawed purity of astonishment on each of the driver's faces as their brakes locked and their over-sized tires slid on the gravel. But make it we did. We must have been quite a spectacle to them. A HUGE retro space-bike with two clowns riding tandem in a place where no bike like this should be. Even on the best of days. We must have looked like a crippled UFO. But I knew what those guys were really thinking. They were thinking "Got more balls than me."

Ha! How many times is complete idiocy taken as courage? Probably more times than anyone would care to admit. If you make it - hero. If you don't - wanker.

The road went on and on and on and then finally a PARTICULARLY steep patch that when we broke over the top leveled out. I felt Mom relax. The knots in my stomach untwisted, and I breathed deeply for the first time since we started our ascent however long ago that had been. There was just enough of a wide spot to pull the bike over lest another Jeep came up behind, broke over the ridge, and smacked squarely into our rear.

I put the Vision in neutral, and slumped over the console.

"Wow," Mom said. "Did we really just do that?"

"Yeah," I said, and laughed half-heartedly, "we just did that. Sorry."

"Wow," she said again.

I thought her remark an understatement.

*** the journey continues ***