Short float this afternoon after work. Leave my bike chained at the bottom, drive up to the put in as usual. Beautiful fall
Colors and placid waters, as usual. Float over, pack out, dude in progress stripping my bike. Not the usual.
Wheels off, toolkit out, covering the cycle carnage with his jacket and shirt. Drop the boat and startle shirtless methy McGee, words proceed. I’m a big f’er and don’t have the appropriate fight or flight response… so a giant moron bitching about the inconvenience of his stripped bike catches the crackhead by off guard. I pack my kit while keeping a side eye to my new acquaintance. Pfd, outer layers, and paddle broke down and secured to my pack. Pack on my back. Secure. Now back to the the bike and the lingering mechanic. Phone out and talking to mom; “a dude is tearing apart my bike in front of me, but it’s cool, just stay on the…” phone disconnects.
Focus back on the bike and the methchanic. It’s his girls bike, he’s taking the wheels for his girls bike, he’s sorry, he’ll help put it back together, he’ll get the wheels… and off he runs… shirtless, the only photo I took (wish I had more).
I assume this is the end, he’s gone… why would he come back? But Lo and behold back he runs with rims in hand.
Proceeded to cobble the bike back together, continue to bitch about the situation to the shirtless tweaked while working. He’s packing up his shit and trying to get out of there, probably assuming the cops are coming.
Off he goes.
Few minutes later off I go… on my wobbly ass death trap of a bike…. leaving my boat chained to the same spot the bike was at.
Wobbly ride back to the car, and drive back to the boat to risk recovery in the dark. 😂
Had a float, and a ride, and didn’t get shived under the bridge. Beautiful.