Blood curdling scream .... I sleep walk to my 5 yr olds room to assess the shrieks and screams. " I'm thirsty dad. Can you get me some water?" Are you kidding me?! The conversation with my son was sleep-abbreviated and to the point. "Do not wake me up with screaming when your capable of getting yourself a drink."
Back to bed I stumble, falling into my bed and sleep almost simultaneously.
More blood curdling screams. Similar conversations but internally infused with more anger and confusion, as this is not my sons normal modus operandi.
More sleep-staggering down the hallway and I'm off to La-La Land again.
I'll let you guess what manner of aural stimulation came emanating down the hall.
Is this really happening? Why? Why wont it stop?
Back to sleep wearing a mask of dread, that my early AM alarm is now, no longer a sound I will be looking forward to.
6:00am - Alarm sounds, right? Nope.
7:15am - Bolt upright in bed like Frankenstein brought to life with a charge of electricity from the heavens. Mind racing, "Shit!" Why didn't my alarm go off? Do I still have time to go ride and be back on time........ Probably not. Do I ditch the ride? My brother is probably waiting for the call that I have left, and here I haven't loaded the gear or fully woken up. I decide I must press on and and take my chances. I really do not want to miss my kids excitement or upset the spousal unit but I play the game of Russian Roulette anyways. Load up and head out.
Time is no longer the only enemy at this point , but lets not forget that I have a deadline to be back by. I had called my brother and instructed him to meet me at our ride spot. I live twenty minutes north of the location, and he is twenty minutes south of the location. About 10 minutes after leaving, my phone rings and my brother informs me that its sprinkling. Set on riding, I instruct him to press on and we will hope the trailhead is open. This location does not fair well in foul weather and one good rain normally shuts it down for days at a time.
As I head up into the hills towards the trail, a fog begins to form and thicken around me. About the same time that the weather starts getting ugly, my body decides to align with the powers that be, and revolt. Now I want everyone to understand that this wasnt a simple stomach ache. This was plain and simple an all of the sudden , all consuming need to dump this demon that is twisting my guts.
(Women may want to step away from the next paragraph as it is sure to offend and possibly be insensitive. If your male and offended by what follows, go kick rocks. Unless that will chip your toe nail polish)
I am now arriving at the trailhead in a full on sweat, trying not to shit myself. The impending doom so strong that I turn off the radio, killing all noise, so that I may add to the simple task of concentrating. DONT SHIT! Sitting for a couple minutes and focusing seems to be working. I'm left with a forehead full of sweat and the question in my head again "Do I just give up and go home?". As frightened as I am with the proposition of being on the trail when the demon rears its ugly head again, I press on and unload the gear. With the decision to ride being made, I am now fearful of the child that I will create while riding, waiting to be birthed when I get home. See the simple matter of fact for the uninitiated is that if you ride while needing to crap, you are simply compressing shit. The bounces and the bumps of the trail are like a child stuffing all their toys in the closet when told to clean their room. When the door is opened, shit starts spilling out. I affectionately refer to this type of bowel movement as a " Parachute Poop" as all you do is pull the ripcord and the rest happens.
(Welcome back ladies... my apologies if you didnt heed the warning)
Standing in the drizzle pulling on my windshell that I always keep in my pack, I'm starting to get excited. It seems as though my ride has actually been earned even though I havent laid down a single pedalstroke yet. My description of the trails will be short and sweet since you, my fellow riders, have all experienced the perfect moment. The trails were heavenly as they were perfectly tacky from all the moisture and sprinkles that the morning had brought. As I rode through the flowy singletrack with my brother in tow, I flashed back to the moments as a young boy when you play football in the rain. Covered in mud, grinning ear to ear, and wanting to be no other place than right here, right now.
Nothing can kill my smile as I load back up and head home knowing that for a moment I am the victor.... at least until I get home and pull the ripcord.