Maybe a half mile but could have been a full mile. When riding up a new dirt road distance becomes less a form of measurement and more an increment of enjoyment. We’d passed the road several dozen times as it is on a heavily used route. At first I rode by it because, as usual, the dead end signed deterred me. But I turned around and approached the hill with excitement. The climb isn’t hard. The forest around the road is over grown enough that mystery awaits around every bend. If the road turns into what I hope, it will be a fantastic new way to get from one side of the ridge to the other. The enthusiasm brimmed as more turns appeared. I reached what looked like a false top, a subtle leveling, that curved to the north. I followed the curve and met a gate with a sign that warned me about electronic gates having the ability to cause serious injury and (not or) death, one likely preceding the other. It wasn’t the usual gate that you portage after dismounting the bike or simply ride around. It was installed by a land owner to keep others out. It worked. I turned around a descended to the main road. On the way down was when the brain kicked in.
I had just read a certain book and had seen numerous episodes of suspenseful television that caused me to think about and question what might be around the corners as I descended. I was certain a man would be standing in the middle of the road in the back woods ready position (stable stance, rifle in hands crossing the front of his chest. Hat on.) He would have seen and heard me riding up, perhaps as the first to ride up his hill, and he’d want to address the matter. I wondered if I would just move over to one side and ride right by without any words exchanged or if he would have the ability to take up the whole road by his sheer presence. What would I say if I did stop? Naturally, the first thing that popped in my head was Ray Stantz speech to Gozer in Ghostbusters: “Gozer the Gozerian. As a duly designated representative of the state, county and city of New York I hear by as you to cease any and all paranormal activity and return forthwith to your place of origin or nearest convenient parallel dimension.” I’d probably change the New York part but I think the Gozerian reference is critical when dealing with potentially hostile semi-back woods people. By the time I recited the speech in my head I was at the bottom of the dirt climb and had turned onto the main road. No man in the road. No need for alarm.
A few more ideas wondered through my mind. Should I surprise my man Ryan Weaver with premier tickets to the new Twillight movie “Eclipse?” Publicly we’d laugh at the gesture but quietly we’d be beyond excited. Almost as excited as Bicycling Magazine gets whenever it has a chance to use Lance Armstrong in an article. “Learn from Lance” etc. etc. The smartest thing he could have done was copyright his name. Maybe he did and receives royalties for each use. He seems like a smart guy. Speaking of smart people, I thought to myself, what about those that lump Ghostbusters and Ghostbusters 2 as the same movie? My response would be, obviously, that those who are devoted to and appreciative of Ghostbusters generally don’t recognize Ghostbusters 2 as ever happening. One could liken it to the 2006 Tour de France. Nobody really believes that Oscar Pereiro won that race. Floyd Landis won, despite the “cheating.” Never was there a less deserving winner than Pereiro. Similarly, never was there a less deserving loser than Michael Rasmussen in 2007. Physically detestable as he might look without a shirt on, he did offer lively competition and bravery. Then I thought about how I might put all these things together for a fun story but I couldn’t figure that part out.
