The Ride of My Life


Cree Vicar Dave ~ SASS Life ~ 49907

Last month I took a very exciting ride.  I saddled up the little filly “Ole Schwinn”, our faithful steed, and rode up over to Gold Tooth Dave’s place.  Ole Schwinn is not a real pony, it’s a bicycle, but probably will be the closest thing I’ll ever own that resembles a real equine or even a Mounted Shooting steed.  (Bicycles were well established by the “Cowboy Era” so maybe there should be, Mounted Bicycle Shooting”.  But that’s an article for another time.)  Gold Tooth Dave and his family live on the same driveway as we do but it is a quarter mile long, So being of the frugal nature that I am Ole Schwinn is my first choice for mode of transportation.

The reason for this short excursion was to return a couple tools I had borrowed.  The Vicar’s Wife had hung a fabric bag on the handle bars to hold small items.  This worked well to hold the tools, so I thought.  It was a beautiful Michigan September morning, not too cold and not a cloud in the sky.  When I rode up to their yard I noticed that their dogs were layin’ in the sun soakin’ up the last warm rays of summer.  Right there on the east side of the farm house was Chloe sleeping in the sun.  Usually the dogs spot me a coming way off a piece and come a barkin’ at me till I yell at ‘em ta let ‘em know who’s a coming.  Chloe is the littlest dog but is always leading the pack and barks the loudest.  It seems the littlest dogs are always the ones who try to be the enforcers.  But this morning everything was to my advantage.  The sun was shining bright and I was approaching from the east, the wind was in my favor and Chloe was completely immersed in her basking.  So I did the only thing a capable scout could do, I quietly rode Ole Schwinn right up to within a foot  of Chloe, pulled in the reins gently for a smooth stop and let out a shrill bark to get her attention.  Well I never before seen a dog do what she did.  She jumped up in the air around two feet, making a quarter turn in flight so as to face me, and came down on all four feet barking while running backwards at the same time.  It was so funny I almost laughed myself silly.

Proceeding on my errand I cornered the house.  Ole Schwinn must have been spooked because the little filly stopped short and I was airborne.  I did a three quarter reversed gainer (without the pike) and landed on my back and right shoulder.  The first thing that crossed my mind was, “That’s what I get for trickin’ a dog.”  It says in Ephesians 5:3-4 (SWNT) “But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints; Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient:  but rather giving of thanks.”  Sure enough I had just did some jesting and then I took a trip without even a leaving the farm.  I’ve been a ridin’ Schwinns for well over 60 years now and this is the first time I’ve experienced the unique phenomenon of flying over the handle bars and, I might add, it is my hope it’ll be my last.

I moseyed back ta see what had caused my faithful steed to come up short.  Seems that the fabric bag hanging off the handle bars that was holding the tools somehow got tangled up in the front wheel spokes causing the chain reaction mentioned a forehand.  Well I dropped off the tools and rode on home.  My right shoulder hurt a little but most of all my pride was bruised.  At least, I thought, it doesn’t seem I’d have ta learn how ta shoot left handed for the next match.  Needless ta say the bag has been elevated so as to eliminate future problems.

Later on that afternoon I noticed a sharp pain in my right rib cage area about where my right elbow would have impacted when the right shoulder hit the ground.  I would have went ta the ER but I didn’t want ta sit in the waiting room four plus hours waiting to see what was wrong.   Must have bruised some ribs or something.  At my age it doesn’t matter much anyway cause I don’t move that fast anymore.  After a few weeks of ice and heat my ribs still hurt when I laugh, albeit it is slowly mending.

After reflecting on this experience for some while I am convinced that the old adages are well worth heeding.  Most of them surpass just being metaphorical.  The idiom that especially comes to mind is: “LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE”, no matter how much they may irritate you.

Hope ta see ya on the trail.

God Bless,