I came to a stop behind Thermos on the dusty trail. He had both of his gloved hands over his head. He was clapping. Just ahead of him, in the middle of a small stream was Keith. His bike was submerged, up to both cylinder heads, in brown water. The rear of the bike was down a bit deeper, nearly past the rear fender. The back tire was spinning, but he was going nowhere. With the rotating tire and frothing exhaust bubbles, the dark water roiled like an uninviting jacuzzi . I leaped from my bike in an instant. I knew what I had to. I knew I had to do it fast, too.
I grabbed my camera and took a picture.
This was what I’d been waiting for all day. Up to that point, we’d been having a dusty ride over some lovely back roads on the Oxford County and New Hampshire line. We’d spent a peaceful night camping on the shores of Virginia Lake in Stoneham. Nothing had gone wrong. That makes a pleasant enough day, but it’s no good for pictures and video. You need drama for that and here, at last, we had some.
Scott, who had made it through the mire, had a rope pull with him. John had some rubber boots. Tim took his boots and pants off. Between them, with help from Vinny, they pulled the bike out. Thermos rode his rig right through, on a slightly different trajectory, without a problem. John, however, found another hole and his bike stalled out in the water. I headed for the water a bit too fast. I made it across, but got soaked in the process.
Keith gets a sinking feeling.