And I rode.
I road up and down in the foothills of Salt Lake City.
I stopped to enjoy the beautiful sun setting behind the State Capital building.
I took a vain and glorious selfie (or eleven) so that I could remind myself later that I am more awesome and badass than these stupid health problems.
After that, I headed toward the nearest long, open road I could think of.
And I rode some more.
The wind blew through the vents on my helmet and filled the sleeves of my riding jacket.
My pants flapped against my legs.
The heat of the engine met with the heat from the West to warm my soul.
It was SO good.
I put it into 5th gear. Then 6th gear. The road was empty. My soul was filling-up. Yes. This was what I needed. This was everything I have been needing. Forget my butt problems. Forget my illnesses. Just me. Delilah. The wind. The sun. And…
Something hit me hard, right in the face of my helmet.
My heart immediately started pounding. I felt myself wobble on the bike ever so slightly as my mental instinct kicked in and I focused only on keeping control before I let myself process what had just happened.
Was that what I think it was?!
That was a friggin’ BAT that had decided to fly on a collision course right at my noggin.
I had just hit a bat. With my face.
Well, with my helmet, anyway.
I have a memory that can’t be longer than 1/10 of a second. I see the bat’s stupid little unexpecting face. I see its beady, black eyes. I see its giant ears. I see its veiny, thin, creepy wings enjoying the dusk summer wind as much as I was.
The bat couldn’t have been bigger than a tennis ball. And I saw it in full clarity in that tenth of a second before I hit it straight on.
A friggin’ bat.
Friends, I almost became a vampire tonight.
I almost got rabies.
I almost got a mouthful of raw, live bat.
And THAT is why you wear helmets when you ride motorcycles.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing