Cheryl

Kirby! Where is my other cycling shoe??” Olive yelled from inside her closet

“I don’t know!” he yelled up the stairs, “Where did you last leave it?”

“If I knew where I left it, I wouldn’t be asking you where it is!” she said getting a little testy

Olive adjusted herself. Cycling shorts were obviously created by a man. Hers were tight and cutting off her air supply, but according to Kirby a necessity to enjoy mountain biking.

She began throwing shoes out that had been buried in her closet since the 8^th grade.

Kirby came into the bedroom. “Where…….whoa!” he said dodging a shoe

Olive was on her hands and knees looking for the lone cycling shoe that alluded her. She looked out at Kirby

“When was the last time you rode?” he asked trying to be patient with her

“That last time I rode with you,” she said very quickly

“Well let’s stop and think.” he said sitting on the bed

That irritated her to no end. “Let’s stop and think,” she said digging some more

“The last time we rode, you were probably in a worse mood than you are now!” he said putting his hands on his knees and looking up at the ceiling

She continued flinging shoes out of the closet

“Where did you get these?” Kirby asked holding up a pair of fabulous tortoise pumps

“Uhhh….” Olive tilted her head to the side, “I can’t remember.”

“This is becoming a problem,” he told her putting a shoe down

After 10 minutes of digging Olive found the lone cycling shoe. The shoe was covered with dried mud and as she shook it off, the pieces began spraying the room.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Kirby yelled

“Sorry,” she said

“I’ve got the bikes loaded and ready to go. Did you get the snacks ready?”

“I did,” Olive said grabbing the big duffle that held her helmet, shoes, dry socks and band aids.

“Then let’s roll,” Kirby told her

She stopped in her tracks. “Since when do you say that?”

“Since now,” he said

“That’s the *dumbest* thing I’ve ever heard,” she said

“You’re just jealous because you didn’t think of it first.” he winked at her

“Don’t wink at me.”

Clearly her feathers were ruffled. “Why is that such a bad thing to say?”

“Because you don’t say it. You say things like, are you ready? Where are the keys? Oh by the way, there’s no gas in the car so you’re going to have to fill it up.”

“You really don’t want to ride today do you?” he asked

“Not really.”

“Come on! It will be good for you!” he put his hands lovingly on her shoulders and squeezed them

“Yeah yeah yeah,” she muttered

“Are your shorts getting smaller on you?”

“That’s it! I’m staying home.”

He laughed. “I’m teasing. Come on. We’ll have fun.”

They left and headed east to a mountain biking trail that Olive could handle. Her leg strength wasn’t the strongest, but she handled technical trails well.

Kirby on the other hand, was a cycling machine. He could make those steep hills with tree roots without even breaking a sweat.

Olives favorite part of mountain biking wasn’t the actual ride, but the drive. She relished the drive through the Hill Country. She loved the live oaks with their gnarled trunks and branches. She adored the cactus. She laughed at the roadrunners scooting across the hot pavement. The roads curved and soared to the sky then plummeted back down to earth. It always tickled her tummy as if she was on a rollercoaster. Kirby loved to make her squeal by picking up speed and going down a steep hill fast.

“Kirby stop it!” she’d laugh, “Cut it out! We’re going to have an accident!”

He’d always say, “Olive! Look no hands!”

“You’re going to kill us!” she’d yell

“Nah!”

The car never went above 45 miles an hour but it felt like 80.

Once they reached the trails, Olive took her baggy shorts off exposing her cycling shorts. She expanded the waistband and actually hurt herself when it snapped back onto her soft flesh.

They sat on the tailgate and put their cycling shoes on, their helmets and sunglasses. “Olive,” Kirby said, “You’re helmet is on backwards.”

“Again?” she asked

He took it off of her and put it on correctly, like he did every time they went cycling. She wondered if it was a subliminal thing to get Kirby to pay attention to her. She shrugged to herself and loaded up 2 large bottles of water on her bike and on Kirbys.

The trails were fairly easy to begin with. Soft gravelly sand that gripped the tires well. Small inclines that even Olive could handle. The sun beat down on them, but it felt good. “For a helmet that’s supposed to have airholes this thing is really hot!” Olive yelled

“Quit bitching!” he said

He stood up on his pedals and took off like the wind. “Ass,” she muttered

As they rode the trails she noticed more wildlife. Killdeer, mockingbirds, spiders, lizzards. She loved being outside.

When she caught up to Kirby he was resting drinking some water. “We’re getting ready to go under the canopy. I think you should go ahead of me.”

“Okay,” she replied getting a sip of water herself.

When they started riding again, she noticed the trails were a little more steep. A little more rocky, a lot of trees to be wound around.

She sat back on her seat as she went down a particularly steep incline. She heard Kirby yelling, “Good job O! You’re doing great! Have you been working out??”

She smiled to herself. It was always a delight when someone catered to your vanity while wearing hideous shorts.

One thing Olive learned about herself while on a mountain bike, was that if she looked at an object, she would run into that object. For example, if she saw a large rock on the side of trail, she would inevitably run over the rock. If there was a tree branch, she would roll over it. Legend says that if Olive spotted an object she would blurt out what the object was and immediately hit it or run over it.

She was impressed with her riding. She hadn’t taken any spills. She hadn’t run into an objects and in all honesty was keeping pace with Kirby. She felt good about it. She smiled a huge smile as her eye wandered to a very large tree.

“TREE!!” she screamed

Before you could say, lickety split, the metal frame of her bike with her on it, met it’s demise with a very large tree.

She felt her body soar through the air, “I’m flying!” she screamed

As gravity took over she knew what would break her fall and she really didn’t want to think about it.

“CACTUS!” she screamed

All of this happened within 5 seconds. Kirby saw the whole thing. As Olive lay, ass in cactus, facing the sky Kirby ran to her side.

“Olive! Olive! Did you break anything?” he asked

“My pride.” she said

He looked at her completely and once he realized what she was sitting/lying in he said, “Ewww..that sucks.”

“Ummm…Kirby. This is kind of uncomfortable.”

“Here.”

He held out his hand and helped her up out of her prickly cocoon. “Can you stand up?”

She did and bent over. “You’re ass looks like a sprung porcupine.” he said

He tried to pick out some of the cactus needles but said, “We’re going to have to get tweezers.”

“I’ve got band aids.”

“We need tweezers.” he said

“I think I’m going into shock!”

“Olive. It’s a cactus. You haven’t been shot.”

“My leg is bleeding.”

“You have a scratch!” he said

When Kirby stepped back and really looked at it for what it was he started laughing. Not just snickering but a deep seeded belly laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you back to the truck.”

He did. With every movement she felt the prick of a cactus needle. A light breeze made them sway. She took off her helmet and pulled dirt and bark out of the vents. When they reached the truck, she had to lie on her belly in the backseat for the trip home because neither of them remembered tweezers.

She felt the truck pick up speed! “Kirby! Cut it out! You’re going to get us in an accident!” she began to laugh

“Look! No hands!”

One thing that occurred to her while lying on her stomach in the back of the truck was this.

Cactus are like husbands. They’re both a pain in the ass!