Shortcut

The other day when I was biking back to quarters along the park tour road it slowly began to rain. Fortunately I was close to a trail head and quickly veered off down a trail to avoid being soaked again. I'd only taken this trail once before and I knew there were several turns off to the right in the direction I had to go. It was later in the afternoon and the trail was deserted and at the beginning very wide and evenly graded. Coming to the first trail intersection I turned right and quickly began going downhill. I remembered that there was a large valley between my present location and quarters so this didn't surprise me. I was only startled when the trail kept getting steeper, going from a gentle pitch on which I could easily brake and switch directions to a near vertical decent that would have turned my bike (and I) into something approximating a lunatic's attempt at modern art had I tried to stop. This was not the trail I'd been on before. At this point the trail had narrowed to about four feet across and I was ducking tree branches and vines the size of thick sausages. Recent rain had washed away much of the gravel surface of the trail and I was bouncing over small gullies and rocks with bone jarring force. I pictured myself hang from a vine that had snared me, while my bike was a mangled heap against a tree. I briefly considered that such an accident was sure to get me an extension on my last internship paper. So there I was hopelessly careening down a hill, dodging vegetation and rocks, and hoping that there was nothing at the bottom that I would need to avoid. I had a vague memory of a stream at the bottom of the valley and was praying there was a bridge with no stairs leading up onto it. Then I hit the valley bottom and the trail leveled quickly. The transition between breakneck decent and dead flat was too sudden for my built up momentum and I rocketed across the valley floor through a long patch of deep mud, which splattered over my shins and back and up the other side of the ravine. I was half way up the opposing hill before I started to slow to any great degree. I had grown unused to pedaling and now had to remind myself of the necessity. At the top of the hill I wondered for a moment where the stream and bridge had gone. I didn't think long about such things since I recognized the next trail intersect.

Shaken, mud splattered, and baring a few red welts from branches that were too much for my reflexes I made it to quarters in record time. My survival justifies the shortcut, but I won't be taking again anytime soon.

It never did really rain.