Monday, August 24, 2009

Ride on Sunday 23rd August

Ratty woke up out of his normal dream and instinctively hit the snooze button hoping to return to dreamland, so far a normal start to his day.
So the story begins… the rat got out of out of bed and was transformed. Focussing his inner energy on the task ahead he dressed in battle gear and found the goose waiting. He busied himself with some minor mechanical adjustment to the goose until the rising adrenalin in his body woke his bowels.
Now… some 900grams lighter he was ready to go.The Lion by now would be cycling past the gymnasium. If ratty hurried he might catch the lion on the way up the hill.

After some primeval grunting the pair decided on a route and hastily ate up the tar looking for dirt. Ah the reward of the open fields the longing, the passion, the demands of the undulating paths beckoned…

The lion let out a “yip” a squeal of pleasure as he negotiated the drop off, scaring the honest passer by of the path, leaving ratty to apologise for the lions behaviour.
The rat did not mind, such was his joy of being free out of his cage, in the field “ Yip, Yip” The crunch of gravel under the goose felt good.

The pair rode on alongside sharing sordid banter but seamlessly moving to single file when the terrain demanded. Lion had seen a clump of trees on Google earth and seemed fixated about visiting them, his motivation unknown to ratty but he suspected the lion needed some distance in his legs to test his 60km commitment in Irene. No problem the rat felt good today.
But things changed as they dismounted to drag their bikes under the bridge. The lion choosing to lift his trek over the obstacle while rat chose the quicker race option, clearly the lion was inexperienced he thought smugly to himself.

Ratty did not even fear being shot as by an irate farmer so invincible did he feel
He had to admit though he was a little was relieved when a solidly disapproving steel gate forced them to urn again in a homeward direction. At the bridge the lions sudden stop for energy sachet made ratty a little more comfortable, the lion was capable of tiring after all… his own legs felt a little wobbly but he would not admit it now.

Back in the saddle the Rat’s fears had just begun to subside when he noted an ominous collection of vehicles ahead. Rat felt his sixth sense warn him of something, and his heartbeat rose feeding new blood to ready his legs Outwardly he cheerily rode on, inwardly prepared to meet the strange looking crowd. The sudden aggressive barking of killer dogs made ratty fart and he dropped a gear to accelerate away from the source of danger He knew the lion behind him would never be scared, but noted the lion accelerate non-the-less.

Ratty was not entirely sure, but did the fat lady in the khaki uniform sport the mountain bike hunters logo on the camoflauge cap? Was the old man with the crooked nose assembling a shotgun? Ratty farted again and crossed the tar road into new territory his mind strategising how to throw the sent and get the dogs of their trail

The lion crossed the tar, they had not yet heard the bugles signifying the start of the hunt,
Rat was not sure this bunch played by the rules, he could still feel the hot breath of the Alsatian as it attacked the walls of its cage when he passed them. No this lot were not to be trusted but the wily rat would do what he could to save his skin.

Fight or flight?…. Flight came to mind
The lion saw it first but did not realise the implication, Rat did, he followed the lion into the refuse site, this might distract the dogs for a while. The chicken manure would help, the nearby chicken farm too Then rat saw the race track, surely mixing their tracks with countless others would help throw the hunters if not the dogs One more tactic, get down to the stream and wash the scent now….all would be ok….. Ratty could hear motorized bikes in the field, witnesses!! at last the hunters foiled.

Survival in agricultural wastelands of Benoni sure aren’t easy But now life was simple, head home, negotiate the polluted wastelands, avoid punctures and feed on protein when you get home.
Irene 60km here we come.

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