It caught my attention just enough to keep an eye on the road perhaps a little further ahead than I might have otherwise. We rounded a bend and in the distance, I could make out what looked like two riders, boasting bright green vests. I could have been wrong, we still were quite a ways back, however as we closed in, not only were the extreme neon-ness of the vests confirmed, but so were the tiny set of footprints to the left. A small donkey walked slowly, freely, beside the brightly decorated caravan.
As we approached, I could make out the words sprawled across the back of the vests, "horse in training," it warned, "please slow down." Well, I was a bike, heading in the complete opposite direction as the wind was and carrying a now sleeping, dead weight 4 year old, needless to say I felt pretty confident in the fact that I was retaining a more than acceptable speed. I held my pace and let them know of my intent to "pass on the right hand side". Apparently, the donkey took notice of us first, and thus alerted all other parties involved (as well as anyone who happened to be onlooking) by bucking, snorting, "hee-hawing" and taking off in an immediate sprint.
I apologized as I passed exclaiming, "its just us, sorry!" (because who can be angry at a mother and her sleeping child) and while I then slowed my speed to show that I meant no harm, the donkey, did not. He rounded another bend and was out of sight. I could hear nothing, the wind was beating my ears like ocean waves against the shore, and I felt somewhat responsible for the occurrence, though, who walks a DONKEY without a tether down a public road? (Not bitter, just sayin). At any rate, I put heart and soul to the pedal and went after the misguided donkey.
I caught up and slowed, he slowed, countered, and took a stance, and though I spoke kindly, gently to him, he fired back up and RAN. He even offered up some of his extra awesome skills, by half attempting to jump in the ever present run-off ditch, and then jumping RIGHT back out as if saying, "psyche. sucka's." I was sorta at a loss. Was I supposed to make shift some sort of lasso and subdue this anarchist beast like a good "cowgirl" should? OR. Was I supposed to let him run himself ragged until he just couldn't. While that SOUNDS sooooo great... it is not just "he" who would be doing the running, and ragged-ness. He already had a "one up" he was solo.
I gave chase. Call it instinct, call it drive, call it "annoyed because I would be home by now", call it whatever you want. I followed that donkey for miles, and then, we all came to a "cross roads" of sorts. A truck was headed our way, the donkey, my sleeping son, and I were headed its. And a road, a left turn, suddenly became a pop up option. "donkey" diverted. Took his sweet time, but finally, last minute (truck almost met his face) turned down Brockett. "brockett road", I quickly committed it to memory, and just as quickly rounded my bicycle ( and STILL sleeping son within) and headed back towards the "loud vests".
The good thing was, I was riding "like the wind", the bad, it was polar opposite of where I really needed to be heading , and I knew at some point soon, I was going to have to turn back around. Finally, I could make out the shapes I was looking for in the distance (thanks also to the aforementioned vests). The closer I got, the more unsure I became. They did not have beaming, "we're so glad to see you" faces. Not even close. I would liken the expression to more of an annoyance, ( either that or severe constipation).
I dared speak anyway, and somehow breathlessly managed to force out, "he turned down Brockett..." Which was met shrewdly with, "ya know if you would have stopped, he probably would have just come back to us." I wondered where it said that on their vests. "He's not our donkey anyway, so it doesn't really matter." And for a split second I was glad that my son was asleep so he wouldn't see mommy sucker punch a "horse in training" in the back of the knee. I shook that thought off quickly. I apologized and added that it mattered to me.
I think they then understood that I had gone to a bit of trouble to try and right the situation, they offered up that the donkey lived on Brockett road, was very smart and more than likely just headed home. I thanked them and whirled my bike around, back into the angry wind. One of the riders called after me, "we just wanted to see you work a little harder." I waved and smiled. And I guess with that, we made our unspoken amends.
I guess I will never know if the donkey made it safely home. While my son, kinda gets the short end of the stick, because he will never even know that any of this ever happened.
Until you tell him all about it, or he grows up and reads this blog:-)
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