The Ride - Chapter 10 (an early gift)

[OMR]

Glen felt the explosions rather than heard them. He seemed to be stuck in a bee’s nest, with bees buzzing by his ears. But he knew that these weren’t bees but bullets and any one of them would put him flat on his back or worse. Glen instinctively dropped and moved to his left back into the shadow of the building behind the large trash bin. He could see the beam of the policeman’s flashlight trying to search him out in the darkness. Glen’s toe hit something hard and Glen realized that it was his own trusty Boy Scout flashlight that was laying there. It must have gone off from dropping it, Glen thought. Glen picked it up and clipped it on his belt. Crouching down he peered around the trash container and saw that the policeman had retreated behind his car… probably waiting for backup. They probably thought him armed and dangerous. They would then flush him out like a trapped rabbit. Glen looked around and spied an old clunker bike leaning up against the back wall of the shop. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, I can get out of this alive

Staying low in the dark shadows, Glen silently wheeled the bike to the end of the building and around the corner. Hoping the tires were full of air, he hopped on and started to pedal. He could hear sirens in the distance getting closer. He thought he’d better stick to the back streets and work his way back to his place which was a good 10 miles away. How in the hell had he gotten involved in all this?

He realized if he climbed up Hill Street, that it would lead to the back of the park and he could cut across the ridge and down into the park and that would save 4 miles… and he could easily lose himself in the park if the police should pick up his trail. He started up Hill, looked back and saw several squad cars using their floodlights to piece the darkness and search the surrounding area. They had found that he was no longer behind the trash bin. He needed to get over the hill and into the park. They’d never catch him there.

It had taken Glen 20 minutes to finally make the top of the hill. He wished he was riding his nice light Blur. It would have been so much easier but Glen was grateful he had found the old bike. He would have given a thousand dollars for a drink of water as his mouth had been dry since he arrived at the back of the bike shop. Now his thirst was overwhelming. Glen knew that the adrenalin was responsible for this as well as the effort he was putting into keeping the pedals turning over.

Glen had almost made it to the back entrance to the park when a police cruiser crested the hill and spotlighted him in its headlights. Great, I know how rabbits feel now, Glen thought as he accelerated through the entrance and into the dark. He almost ran into the chain that closed the entrance off but saw it at the last minute and swerved around it. Damn! He thought, that’s all I would need….to run into a chain on the bike at night. So ugly he could almost laugh… almost.

The police cruiser had also accelerated when it saw Glen and was only seconds behind him when he flashed through the opening. They must have not seen the chain because they went straight through it, or tried to. The heavy chain was secured by sturdy posts. Park officials were really intent on trying to stop people from coming into the park after hours. They had changed out the flimsy posts with steel posts sunk three feet into the ground. They were built to stop a tank… the police cruiser was a piece of cake. The cruiser had stopped so fast that the air bags had deployed, trapping the policemen in the front seat of their patrol car, steam rising from the crumpled front end. Glen saw all of this in a split second and braked hard to a stop and quickly considered his options. He could continue on down the ridge, which was accessible by vehicles like patrol cars… or he could take the more dangerous way down… a rocky, rough single track down the spine of the ridge. At night, it would be even more of a challenge. Challenge? Ha, it would be damn impossible, he thought. Oh what the hell….

Without a moment’s hesitation, Glen pedaled by old bike down the fire road to the entrance to the single track named Rock-it… and that name was appropriate. Without suspension, in the dark, this was going to be very interesting, Glen thought.

Wait a minute, I have a flashlight, that should help and they’ll never see the small light on this trail. Unclipping it from his belt, Glen prayed that it still worked. The trusty old brown plastic Boy Scout flashlight with a compass in the handle flashed to life. Glen immediately felt better and started down.


To say Glen enjoyed that trip down Rock-it in the dark on an old clunker with no suspension, trying to hold a flashlight would be a gross overstatement. It was more like surviving. But something on the mountain biking side of his brain enjoyed the trip. He had only almost gone over the bars twice, but somehow had managed to manhandle the bike to stay upright with him on it. Amazing, he thought. I wouldn’t have believed it unless I had done it. Come to think about it, this whole night had been unbelievable.

Reaching the valley floor of the park, Glen could just make out the fire road that led to the main entrance. Unfortunately, they’d probably have that covered by now. It would be best if he took a short cut and came out on a side street. The sirens were getting louder now. He could see the lights of the squad cars coming through the trees. Shit! They had caught up to him much faster than he had thought possible. In a minute they would have him and how was he going to explain why he was involved in the robbery of a bike shop, who would believe him? Hell, he didn’t even believe it himself

The lead patrol car came tearing around the bend in the road, lights flashing and came to a sliding stop. Glen was brightly illuminated in their headlights. He immediately turned the old bike into an opening between the trees and off the main fire road. He wasn’t sure where he was. He just knew he didn’t want to be back there… like that rabbit in headlights!

Glen crashed through the light brush and suddenly came upon a single track that led away from the fire road. Glen immediately knew where he was. It was one of the single tracks that ultimately paralleled the main road. He knew this section well. He stood on the old bike’s pedals and rode for all he was worth, trying to make it to the old bridge that someone long ago had installed on the single track. Once there, he had several options to follow. If he could just make it to the bridge he could fade into the backcountry of the park and sneak out on a side street and make it home. Home… It seemed so far away now.

Glen was flying blind now, trying to feel the trail rather than see it. He remembered most of it until he came to a small depression and stuffed the front tire into the soft dirt. Glen was thrown sideways into the bushes with the bees. That crash saved his life. Wait a minute, those weren’t bees, they were bullets and they were flying everywhere. He could now hear the explosions from across the clearing. Glen rolled into a ball. Holding his trusty brown plastic Boy Scout flashlight with the compass in the handle tightly in his hand, Glen tried to make him self as small as possible. The shots had stopped and now the shouting began. Shouts from his left… shouts from his right…he could now make out dark shapes slowly converging on his position. This just wasn’t fair. He was not a criminal to be chased and shot at. He was simply a guy who had gone out for a ride one day and it had changed his life. All he wanted was to be back home in the safety of his warm bed with Sandy, his beautiful blond haired wife….anyplace but here!

Then he saw a flicker out of the corner of his eye…..

[RustyIron]

Sweet. You're certainly taking some unanticipated turns!

[foofighter]

we're being spoiled and i LOVE IT!

[foofighter]

i was hoping that he was going to find that singletrack w/ the light at the end...like worm hole himself to where he was w/ his wife

[Schecky]

Very nice!

[un-kola]

Keep going!-Lloyd