Intermission: Speculative Scars

Here was the plan: I was gonna take the dog ( a dingo named Chica) and mountain bike up the north side of the property passed the ponds, two little mountains over, and trespass on a Mimbreno Indian burial ground where I used to collect broken pottery and arrowheads.

Here were the facts: I had never really ridden a mountain bike before. I didn’t exactly remember where this Indian ruin was. I didn’t bring any water. Chica’s constitution seemed meek at best considering all the smoke that filled the air from the surrounding forest fires. Oh and did I mention I HAD NEVER RIDDEN A MOUNTAIN BIKE BEFORE.

Here’s what happened: I didn’t make it. Chica made it about half as far as me and turned around. That really set the tone.

Here’s the moral: Dogs are assholes. They’re selfish, and they cant be trusted.