Where’s My Helmet Cam When I Need It?
As I was blazing down a hill on my bike tonight, barely in control thanks to the grade and the ruts, I happened across a California king snake slithering across the trail. I mean almost literally.
My driver’s teacher said, "when a dog runs across the road and you can’t safely stop in time, you just hit it." (To put that in perspective, I wouldn’t be surprised if he now lives and then lived in one of those trucks with a camper on it as his primary residence or if he had been committed many years ago… he wasn’t exactly playing with a full deck.).
When the moment came and the snake was looming as I blazed down the hill at 38 MPH (I have no idea how fast I was really going because my bike computer always registers 38 as my max speed), who thinks about drivers ed?
As soon as I saw it I immediately bunny hopped (you know, use you legs to pop both wheels off the ground at once). Because the snake loomed so fast thanks to my going fast, I gave even chances that my front tire hadn’t got off the ground in time to not splatter the king snake’s head. My momentum carried me halfway up the next hill, I turned around, and went to see if there was a carcass or a very lucky king snake. Thankfully, it was the latter.
As I approached, however, it wasn’t it any hurry to get off the trail. Perhaps I just nicked his head with my tire, which brain damage turned off his fight or flight mechanism, I don’t know. In any event, I reached down, flicked his tail, and he hurried up into the bushes where he turned and stared at me with his eerie king snake eyes.
On further reflection, what ever happened to the boy, who if he saw a king snake on the trail, would have been off his bike trying to catch it and stuff it in his camelback as a pet? And why hadn’t I taken the time mount my helmet cam this weekend?