A Trip
Bill Conrad
4-14-90
Creative Writing
6-20-87
"How the hell did this get in my attack pack?" It was not really an assault satchel, more like a very worn out black backpack. Randy had just found a tour guide to Gloucester Massachusetts. "After viewing the wonderful beaches, take a winding scenic tour through the countryside and stop in one of the beach front cabins. The entire family will feel a sense of warmth in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace." "Ya, right!" After discarding the brusher Randy proceeded to make sure the proper elements of survival for his 3 hour bike trip were in proper order. "Rope, tools, adjustable wrench, water, flashlight, and tape. Were is the tape?" After a few seconds of searching he gave up and got a new role. "Bye mom, I will be gone for about three hours." She gave the correct security code counter sign: "Be careful dear."
The main piece of equipment was a chromed Religh mountain bike with 18 speeds for any situation. It also had a flat tire. "Now would be the appropriate time for a can of fix flat." He began to drag his wounded bike over to the back entrance of the garage. Under his dads SCUBA diving equipment they had a beat up air compressor for painting. He plugged it in and it failed to start. "What the hell? This piece of junk never works." After jiggling the plug, the compressor came to life and began to fill the tire. As it filled he looked around and his eyes settled on the hedge trimmer hanging on the wall. Last Saturday his father had requested that he trim the overgrown hedges near electric meter. Of course that is not what actually happened. "You are part of the rebel allegiance and A traitor take her away!" "Take your hands off her Darth Dude." "Who dares to defy me?" "I am Randy Skywalker with my Black & Decker Light Hedge Trimmer." With the skill and precision of a master swordsman, Randy did a double pivot switched the trimmer on and began hacking away at the bush. "Take that!" A half pivot and a parry. "A-ha. Whack!" His thoughts were interrupted by the air compressor choking. (It was unable to pump beyond 20 pounds.) With great precision he listened for leaks and found none. "Lets Rock!" He threw his pack on and headed out to challenge whatever was to come.
Randy grew up on a a hill overlooking Route 52 which connected interstate 5, 805 and 15. He began to ride down the hill, the wind wiping at his eyes caused him to occasionally wipe away the tears. (To the tune of "Flight of the Valkeries") "Da-na-na-naa Daa-naa-naa-naaa Da-na-na-naa Daa-naa-naa-naaa Da-na-na-na ect. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Sniff, It smells like... Like victory!!" He had just seen "Apocalypse Now" and was really getting into it.
At the bottom of the hill, Randy applied the brakes and rode up onto the sidewalk. At that point he turned off onto a dirt path past a discarded Christmas tree. It still had some tinsel on its branches and reminded him of how careless people are. At the bottom of the path he maneuvered his bike into a power-slide and kicked up a large cloud of dirt. "In-tense!" He got up and brushed the dirt off and rode through the gate to the canyon. "This is so stupid." Like a fish on a hook, he was stuck in the bars which were intended to prevent motorcycles from entering. After freeing himself he proceeded under the interstate.
On the other side of the underpass he spotted a familiar pond. "I used to catch pollywogs right there." While he was reminiscing about the past he failed to see where he was heading. Whack! An overgrown tree smacked him in the face and caused him to swerve to the side of the path. "They should cut that stupid thing down." After regaining his balance, he continued his trek deeper into the canyon. "This is so cool!" Steadily pumping his legs he thought how much fun this was and how beautiful the canyon looked.
After rounding the hill he began to have a strange feeling like something was stalking him. "Waaaaa!!! Get away you stupid dog! I'm not your Alpo." A large doverman began to chase after him and it was attempting to bite at his moving feet. Randy reacted by peddling as fast as he could but the gears were set up for power and would not let him go any faster. "Get away, you mangy mutt!" "Prince! Come here! Sorry about that kid." But Randy did not hear nor pay attention to anything except getting away from the animal. When he noticed that the dog was no longer on his tail, he slowed down to a reasonable pace.
At this point he had to dismount to go over some rocks. It was not that his bike was incapable of riding over the rubble; he just did not want to fall off in the middle of a group of girl scouts again. It was disappointing to see that his world had again been invaded by vandalism as he passed a mutilated tree stump. "What kind of idiot would write 'LeTs MAke HELl?'" After passing the scared up tree he began to ride through a large black field. The charred remains reminded him of the first smell of smoke and how he felt at that moment. A smile took over his face when he saw that nature was rebuilding the land with a small patch of grass at the far corner of the devastation.
He was at the "point of no return," under route 5. This was one of the places he liked best because a lone chalk cartoonist had put his art one the cement supports. "Hi Opus? Hey that dude put up a picture of 'Calvin and Hobbs'. Cool!" Past this was a lonely stretch of road where not much ever happened.
Up ahead he was forced to make a choice about which direction he would go. "Do I want to go up to Mimiar or over to the dump?" He had not found or seen much over by Mimiar but this one service road leading up to the dump had been bounteous. You could not actually go to the dump but you could follow a service road around it. He often found items which were had been lost or discarded but the people who ran the dump. They were a uncaring bunch which only had a mind for money. Often illegal dumping and drug deals took place along this particular stretch of road. Of course the choice was logical. "When I say this beach is safe to surf... This beach is safe to surf!!!" Off he went to see what he could see and find whatever came into his path.
"Truck!" Off to the side of the road he dashed. His chromed bike did not help matters by reflecting light and attracting attention to him. He just managed to stash the bike and jump down when the vehicle passed. "Asshole!" He screamed. It was not exactly a public road and technically it was a government property so he did not want any trouble. But still joggers often used this road and a truck traveling at sixty was not safe. He heard the truck abruptly stop. "What, is his problem?" He proceeded with his bike and carefully rounded the corner. It had stopped under the familiar "drug deal tree" and a red sports car was next to it. "Poison pumping idiots." His curiosity grew and he hid his bike even better in the bushes. "I wonder what they are doing? Looks like a recon operation major. I'll take point." His quotation of war movies was at a loss and Randy just made one up. As he made his way closer he could tell that it was a typical deal. It appeared to be coke or meth. They went or arguing about something and then the one guy screamed out "No way man, the deal is off." He jumped into his car and drove off. The man jumped into the pickup and chased after the sports car.
When Randy was sure they were gone he got out of my hiding place and went to investigate the scene. "Cool, stainless steel razor blades." They were his favorite because they did not dull or rust. Something caught his eye. "A gold coin! Hey, here is another, and another. Wow! five gold coins." He searched in vain for a sixth but could not find another.
"The truck is coming back." He stuffed the coins in his attack pack and began to run. "Think, think, hiding place, think! The drain pipe!" He ran over to a fifteen foot length of drain pipe and crawled inside of it. The mud on the bottom did not help matters either. Just as he entered, the truck came to a screeching stop. "Kugerans why didn't he bring me cash. Where the did the ones he threw at me go." He was less then twenty feet away and could see the man clearly. He had red hair, a pot belly and was wearing these dorky pants. What worried Randy was the gun holster dangling at his side. The drain pipe was becoming extremely uncomfortable and little flying bugs were all around him.
The man was kicking at the dirt and yelling profanities. Meanwhile Randy had an itch in a place that could not be reached without getting our of the cement hideaway. "When is this slime going to leave so I can scratch my back." "I know you are around here John or whatever your name is! When I find you I am going to kill you!" Suddenly the itch did not bother him and a cold sweat began to drench his body. "Did he say kill? Maybe he would let me go if I gave him the coins. No, he is mad enough that he would probably stick a tire iron through me if he found me."
The man began walking toward the hill not knowing that he was surrounded by poison on all sides of him. "Idiot. Did he hear me say that? Did I say anything?" "I see you and I am going to kill you right now!" "He is looking directly at me!" The man ran up to the sewer pipe and put his foot on front of the pipe. "Come out or I will blow a hole right between your eyes." "Ok, I... Wait, the pipe is cement and he cant see my eyes from that angle." Blam, blam! On that afternoon, Randy's heart beat harder then it had ever before. "Come out of that tree right now!" "He did not see me!" He Again fired and the sound echoed through the pipe. "Stupid birds. Hell he must of ditched me and then come back from the other way to get the coins." Randy had won and the red headed guy stared his truck and left in a big plume of dust.
Randy stayed in the pipe for what seemed to be an eternity. He peeked his head our only to see that a tree had been shot up and the read headed dude had really left. Under extreme concealment, Randy went back to where he had concealed his bike. The trip home was filled with quick stops due to the slightest sound. It was difficult since fighter planes flew overhead every thirty seconds.
He reached the "point of no return" and waited. "Not even the truck could go through this place." After he was sure no one was following him, he continued his fast trek homeward. This time he did notice the beauty around him nor stop to walk his bike across the loose stones. He usually had to work hard to go up the hill at this time he did not even notice the incline. On the way up he had a fear that he would see the red sports car. "Ahhhhh!" A flash of read streaked in front of him. "Sorry Randy, I didn't see you." "Ah.. Hi dad." "How was your trip? It didn't last long." Randy looked at his watch and saw that he had only been about one and A half hours. "Ahh, I will tell you when I get to the top of the hill." Randy's dad zoomed off and turned into the driveway. Randy went in back and turned on the hose and washed himself off. "Another fine day in the core!"
With the money Randy got from selling the gold, he purchased a computer. It was over a year before he entered the Canyon again. This was partially his mothers doing, she is quite nervous. Randy's father was pleased that he handled himself "like a man" in the situation. All and all it was the adventure of a lifetime for him.
4-14-90
Creative Writing
6-20-87
"How the hell did this get in my attack pack?" It was not really an assault satchel, more like a very worn out black backpack. Randy had just found a tour guide to Gloucester Massachusetts. "After viewing the wonderful beaches, take a winding scenic tour through the countryside and stop in one of the beach front cabins. The entire family will feel a sense of warmth in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace." "Ya, right!" After discarding the brusher Randy proceeded to make sure the proper elements of survival for his 3 hour bike trip were in proper order. "Rope, tools, adjustable wrench, water, flashlight, and tape. Were is the tape?" After a few seconds of searching he gave up and got a new role. "Bye mom, I will be gone for about three hours." She gave the correct security code counter sign: "Be careful dear."
The main piece of equipment was a chromed Religh mountain bike with 18 speeds for any situation. It also had a flat tire. "Now would be the appropriate time for a can of fix flat." He began to drag his wounded bike over to the back entrance of the garage. Under his dads SCUBA diving equipment they had a beat up air compressor for painting. He plugged it in and it failed to start. "What the hell? This piece of junk never works." After jiggling the plug, the compressor came to life and began to fill the tire. As it filled he looked around and his eyes settled on the hedge trimmer hanging on the wall. Last Saturday his father had requested that he trim the overgrown hedges near electric meter. Of course that is not what actually happened. "You are part of the rebel allegiance and A traitor take her away!" "Take your hands off her Darth Dude." "Who dares to defy me?" "I am Randy Skywalker with my Black & Decker Light Hedge Trimmer." With the skill and precision of a master swordsman, Randy did a double pivot switched the trimmer on and began hacking away at the bush. "Take that!" A half pivot and a parry. "A-ha. Whack!" His thoughts were interrupted by the air compressor choking. (It was unable to pump beyond 20 pounds.) With great precision he listened for leaks and found none. "Lets Rock!" He threw his pack on and headed out to challenge whatever was to come.
Randy grew up on a a hill overlooking Route 52 which connected interstate 5, 805 and 15. He began to ride down the hill, the wind wiping at his eyes caused him to occasionally wipe away the tears. (To the tune of "Flight of the Valkeries") "Da-na-na-naa Daa-naa-naa-naaa Da-na-na-naa Daa-naa-naa-naaa Da-na-na-na ect. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Sniff, It smells like... Like victory!!" He had just seen "Apocalypse Now" and was really getting into it.
At the bottom of the hill, Randy applied the brakes and rode up onto the sidewalk. At that point he turned off onto a dirt path past a discarded Christmas tree. It still had some tinsel on its branches and reminded him of how careless people are. At the bottom of the path he maneuvered his bike into a power-slide and kicked up a large cloud of dirt. "In-tense!" He got up and brushed the dirt off and rode through the gate to the canyon. "This is so stupid." Like a fish on a hook, he was stuck in the bars which were intended to prevent motorcycles from entering. After freeing himself he proceeded under the interstate.
On the other side of the underpass he spotted a familiar pond. "I used to catch pollywogs right there." While he was reminiscing about the past he failed to see where he was heading. Whack! An overgrown tree smacked him in the face and caused him to swerve to the side of the path. "They should cut that stupid thing down." After regaining his balance, he continued his trek deeper into the canyon. "This is so cool!" Steadily pumping his legs he thought how much fun this was and how beautiful the canyon looked.
After rounding the hill he began to have a strange feeling like something was stalking him. "Waaaaa!!! Get away you stupid dog! I'm not your Alpo." A large doverman began to chase after him and it was attempting to bite at his moving feet. Randy reacted by peddling as fast as he could but the gears were set up for power and would not let him go any faster. "Get away, you mangy mutt!" "Prince! Come here! Sorry about that kid." But Randy did not hear nor pay attention to anything except getting away from the animal. When he noticed that the dog was no longer on his tail, he slowed down to a reasonable pace.
At this point he had to dismount to go over some rocks. It was not that his bike was incapable of riding over the rubble; he just did not want to fall off in the middle of a group of girl scouts again. It was disappointing to see that his world had again been invaded by vandalism as he passed a mutilated tree stump. "What kind of idiot would write 'LeTs MAke HELl?'" After passing the scared up tree he began to ride through a large black field. The charred remains reminded him of the first smell of smoke and how he felt at that moment. A smile took over his face when he saw that nature was rebuilding the land with a small patch of grass at the far corner of the devastation.
He was at the "point of no return," under route 5. This was one of the places he liked best because a lone chalk cartoonist had put his art one the cement supports. "Hi Opus? Hey that dude put up a picture of 'Calvin and Hobbs'. Cool!" Past this was a lonely stretch of road where not much ever happened.
Up ahead he was forced to make a choice about which direction he would go. "Do I want to go up to Mimiar or over to the dump?" He had not found or seen much over by Mimiar but this one service road leading up to the dump had been bounteous. You could not actually go to the dump but you could follow a service road around it. He often found items which were had been lost or discarded but the people who ran the dump. They were a uncaring bunch which only had a mind for money. Often illegal dumping and drug deals took place along this particular stretch of road. Of course the choice was logical. "When I say this beach is safe to surf... This beach is safe to surf!!!" Off he went to see what he could see and find whatever came into his path.
"Truck!" Off to the side of the road he dashed. His chromed bike did not help matters by reflecting light and attracting attention to him. He just managed to stash the bike and jump down when the vehicle passed. "Asshole!" He screamed. It was not exactly a public road and technically it was a government property so he did not want any trouble. But still joggers often used this road and a truck traveling at sixty was not safe. He heard the truck abruptly stop. "What, is his problem?" He proceeded with his bike and carefully rounded the corner. It had stopped under the familiar "drug deal tree" and a red sports car was next to it. "Poison pumping idiots." His curiosity grew and he hid his bike even better in the bushes. "I wonder what they are doing? Looks like a recon operation major. I'll take point." His quotation of war movies was at a loss and Randy just made one up. As he made his way closer he could tell that it was a typical deal. It appeared to be coke or meth. They went or arguing about something and then the one guy screamed out "No way man, the deal is off." He jumped into his car and drove off. The man jumped into the pickup and chased after the sports car.
When Randy was sure they were gone he got out of my hiding place and went to investigate the scene. "Cool, stainless steel razor blades." They were his favorite because they did not dull or rust. Something caught his eye. "A gold coin! Hey, here is another, and another. Wow! five gold coins." He searched in vain for a sixth but could not find another.
"The truck is coming back." He stuffed the coins in his attack pack and began to run. "Think, think, hiding place, think! The drain pipe!" He ran over to a fifteen foot length of drain pipe and crawled inside of it. The mud on the bottom did not help matters either. Just as he entered, the truck came to a screeching stop. "Kugerans why didn't he bring me cash. Where the did the ones he threw at me go." He was less then twenty feet away and could see the man clearly. He had red hair, a pot belly and was wearing these dorky pants. What worried Randy was the gun holster dangling at his side. The drain pipe was becoming extremely uncomfortable and little flying bugs were all around him.
The man was kicking at the dirt and yelling profanities. Meanwhile Randy had an itch in a place that could not be reached without getting our of the cement hideaway. "When is this slime going to leave so I can scratch my back." "I know you are around here John or whatever your name is! When I find you I am going to kill you!" Suddenly the itch did not bother him and a cold sweat began to drench his body. "Did he say kill? Maybe he would let me go if I gave him the coins. No, he is mad enough that he would probably stick a tire iron through me if he found me."
The man began walking toward the hill not knowing that he was surrounded by poison on all sides of him. "Idiot. Did he hear me say that? Did I say anything?" "I see you and I am going to kill you right now!" "He is looking directly at me!" The man ran up to the sewer pipe and put his foot on front of the pipe. "Come out or I will blow a hole right between your eyes." "Ok, I... Wait, the pipe is cement and he cant see my eyes from that angle." Blam, blam! On that afternoon, Randy's heart beat harder then it had ever before. "Come out of that tree right now!" "He did not see me!" He Again fired and the sound echoed through the pipe. "Stupid birds. Hell he must of ditched me and then come back from the other way to get the coins." Randy had won and the red headed guy stared his truck and left in a big plume of dust.
Randy stayed in the pipe for what seemed to be an eternity. He peeked his head our only to see that a tree had been shot up and the read headed dude had really left. Under extreme concealment, Randy went back to where he had concealed his bike. The trip home was filled with quick stops due to the slightest sound. It was difficult since fighter planes flew overhead every thirty seconds.
He reached the "point of no return" and waited. "Not even the truck could go through this place." After he was sure no one was following him, he continued his fast trek homeward. This time he did notice the beauty around him nor stop to walk his bike across the loose stones. He usually had to work hard to go up the hill at this time he did not even notice the incline. On the way up he had a fear that he would see the red sports car. "Ahhhhh!" A flash of read streaked in front of him. "Sorry Randy, I didn't see you." "Ah.. Hi dad." "How was your trip? It didn't last long." Randy looked at his watch and saw that he had only been about one and A half hours. "Ahh, I will tell you when I get to the top of the hill." Randy's dad zoomed off and turned into the driveway. Randy went in back and turned on the hose and washed himself off. "Another fine day in the core!"
With the money Randy got from selling the gold, he purchased a computer. It was over a year before he entered the Canyon again. This was partially his mothers doing, she is quite nervous. Randy's father was pleased that he handled himself "like a man" in the situation. All and all it was the adventure of a lifetime for him.
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