Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Regina Moose - Ritalin Queen of the Rockies

*** continued from previous post ***


Don't ever tell anyone this, but I nearly panicked right then and there.

I looked at that moose, and how tall she was. How long those legs were, how high her belly was off the ground and for a split-second I considered just popping the clutch and seeing if we could zip underneath her. Really. I figured we may have to duck a bit, and the luggage strapped on the trunk may scrape her belly, but I was fairly certain we could make it.

"Don't even frickin' think that you could drive underneath her," Mom warned.

Spooky, spooky woman. Fine. I didn't want to anyway. But I know I could have made it. That aside, It was clear that I had to do something. Hopelessness seemed appropriate.

I literally ground my molars together and said, "Much as I hate to say it, we are going to have to turn around and go back down the mountain. I have no idea what else to do. I know there is a bear back there, but there could be a bear right here, any minute. I would rather be a moving target than a sitting target."

I feel the hope drain from your mother like air from a pin-pricked balloon. "Go back down?"

"I know, sweetie, but we have two options. Stay here, for I don't know how long. How long does it take a moose to get bored? For all we know this one could be 'Regina Moose - Ritalin Queen of the Rockies'. We can't go in front of her, we can't go behind her . . . you've completely ruled out going UNDER her - but we know I could have made it - so we either sit here until God knows when, or we turn around."

*** the journey continues ***

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