Karin Mitchell's books on Goodreads
Between Families Between Families
reviews: 5
ratings: 8 (avg rating 4.75)

Monday, June 30, 2008

paranoid bikers

A group of friends who were really into road biking road their bikes from Breckenridge 9.5 miles to Frisco then another 7 to Copper Mountain. It was one of the guy's birthdays so they hung out at Copper and drank some beers, then some more beers, and.. you see where this is going. The only problem was that the Summit Stage (our free bus) doesn't take people with their bikes at night; the bike rack interferes with their visibility. So the guys decided to ride their bikes home.

So on their merry ride home, (did I mention all 16.5 miles is down hill,) they rushed against the wind in the dark. The front runner, stretched ahead pedalling when WHAM!! He was knocked out. When he came to moments later, he stared at none other than, get this: a bear.

The bear was not alarmed, merely annoyed and he dundered off into the woods before any of the drunken slackers arrived to witness him. The guy's friends, of course, did not believe he'd hit a bear. They just figured he was wasted and didn't want to admit he ate shit on the way home. (Although you'd think the guy's urine stained pants might have given them a hint... hmmm drunk people piss themselves though.) I digress. The next day they returned to the site of the "accident" where they found evidence that the guy had in fact struck a bear. There were tufts of brown fur everywhere.

So last weekend, I went to the bar, kicked some ass at beer pong (yeah Paige) and then proceeded to attempt to ride my bike home. I know this is not the safest way to get home, its not even a mile walk and really not a big deal to hoof it. Still, there are a few physical activities I really enjoy doing while under the influence. The first is climbing trees. I once climbed a tree in St. Louis outside the Delmar only to have a strange African man pretending to wield a camera shout up at me, "This is the BBC and we have a lady in a tree. Lady, don't be a hero! Get down from that tree!" But mountain trees are not as fun to climb: pine needles aren't friendly.
So I have riding bikes. Since Rob got pulled over last time we attempted this, I figured there were no police on the bike path so I'd take it instead of the road.

It took some swerving and searching to find the path, (night beer goggle vision isn't helpful,) but I figured it out. However, once I turned onto the path, I could not stop picturing bears everywhere. Large rocks became bears, trees became bears, shadows that didn't exist became bears! I don't want to hit a bear. That sounds freakin scary. I made it home, but not without a goodly amount of paranoia for my bike ride.

So I ask, what athletic activities are left for a drunken mountain girl? If the bears take biking, what's left? Oh yeah, beer pong. And swimming when you can find it.


Brianne Snow said...

You have got to be fucking kidding!! He hit a bear...that is so funny!!
This story belongs in the Daily.

Anonymous said...

You can always have sex (once you get home!!)