|Our humble yurt at the Flagstaff Nordic Center|
I can't believe how beautiful it is outsi – oh, shit! That's a deer! Like in the trail, looking at me and way fucking bigger than I imagined, deer. Or is it a moose? Wait, no. I'm from NH – why am I suddenly unable to tell the difference between a moose and a deer? Definitely a deer. He looks pissed, or maybe he just takes his morning walks very seriously and I just fucked it all up for him. Do I turn around? Or is that rude – I don't want the deer to think I am avoiding him, but I also don't want to be trampled to death. Do they even trample? Should I climb one of these trees? What? No. I haven't climbed a tree since I was 10 – so no, I should not climb one of these trees. Those antlers are freaking me out and I'm pretty sure he knows it. I can see the headline now - “Vegan Mountain Biker Gored by a Stern Deer”. How ironic. Or maybe it's a she? No, a female deer probably would have ran. Not that I think women can't hold their own, alright now I'm really an asshole. Maybe if there was another deer here for comparison...
|One of the super flowy trails in the Coconino National Forest|
I'll just turn around and pick another trail. What if he follows me? No, his legs are so long. It would be a very leisurely pace for him, and without small talk he'd probably get bored. Can I look back? Or will that be seen as an invitation to hang out or fight over something we both think we deserve – like the rights to ride on his turf. No, don't look back. What was that noise – perhaps an oncoming ambush? No, I just ran over a pile of wood chips. Okay – what was THAT noise? More wood chips. What is with all of fucking wood chips?
I can't wait to tell Jason about this encounter once I get back to the yurt. How should I word it – maybe, “I saw a beautiful, serene deer basking in the sunlight in the forest”. Nah, he'll know it's bullshit.