Lions and Tigers... and Bats?

...one warm summer evening I decided to bicycle ride to Sunny Valley from my campground for some "Nectar of the Gods", a cold Dr. Pepper and a Snickers Bar.  It was only about a eight mile journey one way, a short jaunt for me back in my real bike riding days.  By the time I had reached my destination and finished enjoying the refreshing snack it had actually gotten darker outside then I had anticipated.

Of coarse we all know cougars come out at night so you must pedal fast down the dark country roads to prevent them from leaping on your back and taking you out like an elk.  So I'm speeding along at a pretty good clip in the almost total darkness I see a glimpse of something just before it slams into my face. Now I have never been hit in the face by a bat before, which brings up the obvious question, I thought they had special radar to prevent this sort of thing from happening. Anyway I digress. Have you ever tasted a bat before? Me neither, but when you taste a bat for the first time you know it's a bat.

Quickly grabbing the stale tasting furry creature with one hand and tearing it from my face I fling it over my shoulder while trying not to crash while pedaling down the really dark roadway. It doesn't help to scream when your in the "wilderness" alone because there is no one there to hear you yell, so I just pedaled on towards the relative light at camp even harder and faster. I had seen enough horror movies with bats in them by then to know that you never can truly just fling a bat with rabies aside. In the movies they always latch onto your clothing and slowly begin to crawl up your back towards your carotid pulse to suck your blood. It's like when you find a tick on yourself and you just know there are a dozen more trying to burl into your smooth skin, somewhere. So as I pedal down this really, really dark, heavily wooded country road, constantly slapping over my shoulder checking for the bat I just knew was still there, all the while I could sense glowing cougar eyes glaring at me from the steep cut banks along the roadway. Thank God there was still a glimmer of light being given off from the lingering campfire as I skidded into Beaver Hollow. Tossing my bike aside, running towards the fire light I tear the clothes off my back, all the while dancing around like someone who has real bad cooties, glancing back and forth checking myself for fang marks...

while the other people who were calmly sitting around the warm campfire finally asked, ahhh Blaze "What in the Hell are you doing ?".