It had been a great day, as far as workdays go. It was Friday at last, and I had just finished lunch at home and cranked up the old Harley for the ride back to work. It was early summer, about 95 degrees, and it felt good cruising at 60 mph down the two-lane highway. My latest construction job forced residence in Illinois, and if you’ve never been there, well…let’s just say that it’s flat as the boards we work with, and one can see across the entire county.
I was about five miles from work and I could see dark, gray clouds were gathering and churning in the direction of the construction site where I worked. Lightning flashed brilliantly down from the skies to the open cornfields, and I wondered if perhaps the opposite direction might not be wiser. Remember me telling you that it’s flat out here? Well that makes me the highest point for lighting. Not a single tree around to share the danger. But I prided myself in being able to read storms. I learned the hard way, while living out west, and I developed a somewhat skilled ability to shoot the gaps of storms…popping out the other side like a surfer spinning out of the curl of a wave just before it crushes him.
Countless times I successfully calculated the movement of a storm and either blasted down the road to outrun it or found an overpass to let it scream is outrage and me and move on. So that fateful day I rode on, and as I got closer, I could see that the storm had moved further to the east and was already past the work site.
I continued my ride in pleasure, unaware how prophetic that thought truly would be. My ride on the Serpent was just minutes away. As I made the turn from the main highway on to the access road, I saw the steam rising off the asphalt from the recent rainstorm. But life was good, the sun was shining and I hadn’t encountered one drop of rain…did you hear me…not one drop…haaaaaaaaaa.
I rolled to a stand still at the stoplight, only 100 yards from my parking lot, and chalked up another perfectly-timed ride, just right to avoid the rain… still ignorant of the Serpent. The light turned green, I rolled gently to the right and came to a stop, waiting to make a left into the parking lot. As I looked left, I blinked hard several times. I didn’t believing what my eyes witnessed. About 200 yards in front of me, trees, and I’m talking huge old 60-year-old oak trees, were thrashing about as if bowing before royalty. What the f#*@ I thought, but before I could complete the thought, I saw, coming headlong at me, a wall of white water… rain that looked as if it was made of solid sheets of ice and moving horizontal like a huge wave. I put both feet down and braced for the onslaught.
The wind and rain hit me broadside like a sledgehammer and l leaned the bike into the Serpent as hard as I could. All I could think was. “What the hell.” I struggled to keep the bike upright…but I was losing that battle, slowly but surely. Branches and leaves began to pelt me as they flew through the air like arrows from a volley of archers and I sought out the bike’s kickstand and kill switch. The Serpent was determined to make me lay at his feet. It was time to dump the bike, before I ended up beneath it. The water was so thick I couldn’t see the kill switch on the handlebars. Fortunately, thousands of miles on this trusted machine allowed me to find the kickstand and the kill switch by Braille, and I quickly dropped the kickstand, hit the kill button and unassed the bike, holding on to it to make sure I didn’t blow down the road myself. Three more, “What the hells”, and it was over.
The wind, rain, branches, and leaves were gone, as if they were never there, but I had proof. I pulled leaves out of my hair and beard and pulled branches out from under the bike. The Serpent was gone. I looked back in the direction from which he came and sunshine abounded….whereas, just 15 seconds ago it was a tidal wave on land. WOW, unbelievable, amazing. I’d never seen anything like that before.
During the height of the Serpent’s ride, some pinhead, in a cage behind me, was HONKING HIS HORN the entire time…pushing for me to make my turn. As I pulled the last of the leaves from down my shirt near the small of my back, I slowly walked back towards the honking car. Who knew…maybe the guy got so frightened during the Serpent’s passing that he passed out and fell on top of the horn, thereby unintentionally honking his ass off at me. About two feet from his front door, I heard the power door locks engage, locking his doors…hmmmmm…guess he wasn’t passed out after all. But I have to give him credit. He rolled down his window, 2 inches, and whimpered, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to honk. My apologies.”
Trying to be gracious, I replied, ”Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you for being such an asshole.” I turned to go back to the bike. I rode the bike the last 50 feet, parked the bike and looked around at the chaos. Tree branches were down everywhere, some on top of cars, some thru the windshields of cars. Guess I made out after all. Other than being soaked to the bone and standing in the two portable hot tubs that I used to call my boots, the bike and I were in great shape.
As I walked unsteadily into the building, several people stood at the entrance in awe and asked if I rode through that. I just smiled and replied, “Of course…it’s Friday…I always take a bath on Friday to get ready for the weekend.” At that very moment the town’s severe storm/tornado sirens went off. Didn’t I mention timing is everything!
They said it was a micro burst. Call it what you want. I know a Serpent when I ride one.
–FLY
