Next Full Moon

Sunday, May 3rd Full Flower Moon

05 January 2013

hero worship is not a productive pastime

What? You scared? Slouchy, hungover and aching is no way to go through life, son.

There are certain protocols, specificities of etiquette. Niceties, if you will, which it were better to observe. Consider: say you are riding with nameless "friends", in the woods, in the dark, and you get separated. Established behavioral norms cemented in place to a diamond hardness and sheen by millenia of Fine Upstanding Tradition and reasoned discourse and a consensus of mutual benefaction plus Goodwill to All and to All a Good Night has it that you stop. You assess. You maybe hoot the International Distress Call* (whatever your local and- hopefully- recognized variant may be). You listen. You maybe hoot again. Bearing in mind that you might be in a er situation that could be construed by the narrow minded as technically "off limits" or somesuch. ____ing, etc.

If your party fails (and I use the word lightly. Gently. Tough lovingly.) to show then Logic, Reason and Experience dictate that you retrace your pedal strokes back to the last intersection at which all were present. Simple as that.

But. In the real world, folks get tugged along by circumstance and shit goes wrong. That has been my experience, anyways. Last night I dropped that short, steep doubletrack to the 3 way and hooked a left. The left is the direction we'd discussed taking twice, and it is the flowier option. Straight up the middle there is singletrack, yes, but it climbs and is no joke right away and goes another way and stuff. The right is not worth considering. The drop, the way we'd come- well, it is a reverse and all.

So. Like I say, I railed that sweet assed descent and flowed like water along the further and delicious descent around several corners to the correct singletrack and pulled up to wait for my faceless associates. It being a dark night, and us being in flagrante delicto, (best Latin phrase of all time?)  I shut my lights down and stood around wondering what might be the case as I was all of a sudden alone. I waited. I hooted. I reckoned La__y and Cu_ly had to be back at the 3 way doing something, and rode back up to see.

That 3 way was black and empty. I repeated the lights-off and the hooting and the listening. Nothing. 3 possible routes, with 1 of them being unlikely. Eventually (minutes), I walked up the middle trail because it was most likely to my mind, and sure enough- there was a tire mark. So I walked back down and got on the bike to pursue. Up and up steeply. Hooting. Listening. Across, around, under, over and up again steeply. At that one meadow I stopped and hooted. Shut my lights down- batteries wear down quick!

I heard a voice. "Take the wrong trail?" Man, did that tear it for me.

"No. I took the right trail." Then I made some remark about them not hearing me or hooting themselves or seeing my lights, etc. This was rebuffed. I asked, hotly- it's true- why they didn't head back to the 3 way, as is to be expected. This was rebuffed.

I really popped a wheelie. There was a yelly confrontational lecture. I was told to drink a beer and to lighten up and eventually to shut the fuck up- all of which were good advice. I stated that I would be willing to part ways on a semi-permanent basis. I was less than polite. I may have actually sputtered like a wet hen.

So not one of my finer moments. It was brought to my attention that "it's not Antarctica" and that there really were no serious consequences that had arisen, which are true. I acknowledged that I had gotten overbearing, and they are not my kids... after a while. What got me and kept getting me was that Subject M would not acknowledge any responsibility nor proper procedures. I felt that I am entitled (oops! that can't be good...) to a certain amount of Respect and that that amount of Respect was not being given. I think that's probably the real issue. REspect due.Yes I.

It is easy to seem reasonable and in the right here on screen. Who doesn't want to seem the good guy? Do any of us see ourselfs clearly, without the fog of our self-perceptive beer goggles? I have the moral high ground ( for fucking SURE!) but is it worth holding like a grudge? Do 12 minutes alone in the dark woods warrant a total freak out? No. My reaction is disappointing to me. In the big picture, it is some small hot potatoes.

Anyhow. The whole affair is a bummer- including being introspective about it. I am happy to drop the subject now.

*Remind me to tell you the story of the international distress call in person. The hoot is very distinctive and funny.


Gunnar Berg said...

You're an ass, but nevertheless I worship you.

Buzz said...

Dude! I knew I liked you for a *reason*! And...I have to came BACK to help my sorry old ASS when we rode.

The high moral ground ?....Ha! I got your high moral ground in spades my man. Never did me a damn bit of good in 62 years other than get me in or near to fisticuffs. No shit. You should hear my Christmas eve story. Fat F'in head, seemingly LARGE world matter .. "I" still felt like S@#$T!

TUPAC was a genius. Yep...I said it. I have more than a few favorites. Course on the other hand... I have drank Champagne with David Nash..and on the other hand I *survived* the ghettos of east Alisal in the 50's and 60's.
You think they bad now? If you only knew.