…and …….DEER! I grab a handful of everything! Rear brake locks! Ain’t got no ABS on this 98 glide! I let up and stab again. Bambi’s standing there looking at me! Maybe I can slide around him………….oh shit….no, he’s heading the same way! Only one thing to do……………………………
(to be continued)
Only one thing to do………..as I frantically try to brake and steer and not go down, I yell as loud as I can: “GIT!”
Now, those of you who’ve been around dogs, or cats (even women, although
their response may be different)….know that a well-shouted “GIT” will
usually get the animals attention, and USUALLY will result in the animal
cringing and slinking away. Now, and I swear to God this is so, I shouted “GIT” at the top of my lungs, TWICE, and Bambi scrambled, hoofs
clicking and clacking against the asphalt as he tried for traction on the same road surface I was trying to stop on…..and when he finally got a grip he exploded like someone had strapped a JATO bottle on his ass, and maybe I just touched his back-end with my wheel, I dunno, but he got the fuck outta my path, and I continued my panic stop to the side of the road, where I checked my pants to see if there was a load in there! It was the closest I’ve come to almost hitting a deer. (Now I HAVE hit a deer before, but that’s not part of this story) After a while (could’ve been a minute, could’ve been 10, I dunno, I decided my heart wasn’t gonna jump outta my chest, and my breathing was sorta under control again, so I had a smoke. Maybe I shouldn’t have smoked Mother Nature, but then again, it seemed to help, and I rode the rest of the distance over the mountain at about an ol’ lady 35mph, til I got to the bar we all hang at, and had a nice snort of Clown Oil. That helped! Told my tale to my bros, laughed, loosend up a little, and then one of my buddys asked me, “Hey, what’s all that brown shit all over the left side of yer fairing?”
Guess Bambi used something besides JATO to get away from me!
Mi Vida Loca
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