“Check out the firebird” said Josh, nodding over the road. There, on the drive, was a gleaming black Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. “What’s faster, KITT or the DeLorean?” he added.
“The DeLorean goes through time so it must be that” said Mikey without hesitation.
“Yeah but it only gets up to 88 and that’s it” replied Josh, “KITTs got super pursuit mode which gets it to 300 or so?”
“So, your telling me, a vehicle that travels through time is only going at 88? Bullcrap!” Mikey said sarcastically.
“Well how do you know how fast time travel is? I thought it was instantaneous when you hit 88??!” replied Josh.
“So how do you put a number on instantaneous!” snapped Mikey.
“Boring!” Tex blurted out to kill the debate. “Come on, we’ve a way to go yet!” he shouted as he free wheeled passed them, stood upright on his pedals.
As the houses became less and less frequent, the noise of the lawn mowers faded away. The only noise was from the boys themselves and the sound of the bike wheels humming on the perfect, hot tarmac. Pete was struggling to keep up and he continued to trail at the back of the group, red faced, hating every minute.
It was starting to get hot, close to 10 in the morning with not a cloud in the sky. They had been cycling for well over an hour and hadn’t passed anyone for over half that. Finally, after a 15 minute off road section down an overgrown grass trail, they arrived at the Lake...each pulled their bike to an abrupt halt, skidding in the loose mud and stones. Pete, being last, saw this and tried to mimic it. His attempt at a skid was poor and he slowly ground to a halt. They all chuckled at his failure.
There were two important skills to master on the BMX, wheelies and skids. They would often spend hours, honing their skills. Key to this was making sure the rear tyre was bald enough to effortlessly skid, and, getting the exact amount of pull to lift the front handlebar without over cooking it and falling backwards. Unfortunately for Pete, he hadn’t mastered either of these techniques.
“Right, stash the bikes here” says Josh, pointing towards some bushes and branches.
Mikey looked worried. “You sure they’ll be ok? If my bike goes missing I’m in deep trouble. This was a present, and I’ve got to look after it, my mom said I’ll be grounded and...”
“Mike! Chill!” Davy answered. “Gee’s, what’s with everyone today?”
Josh tried to re-assure him “Its fine – no-one comes here...! I know my dad and his mates used to come here way back...”
“Boring! C’mon, let’s go!!” Pete said abruptly, with a steely determination the group were not used to seeing but all were sure it would not last too long...Tex shot him a “why did you shut him up” look. It was hard to tell if Pete went red due to this or the fact he’d just had to perform an hour or so’s physical exercise.
They all hid their bikes and pulled some branches and foliage over them to cover them up. As they left the lake side, walking around the grey rocks and smooth, dead trees, Josh stopped on top of a large rock.
“Right up there. Devils Gorge” Josh pointed off into the distance. They all gazed up in the direction Josh was pointing. A sea of green, the trees looked thick, impenetrable. “Ok?” he added, “I reckon it’ll be an hour or so”.
Pete muttered something under his breath. An hour, going uphill. Not the best way to spend a Saturday he thought.
They all set off down a narrow grass path, almost a natural trail, one by one with their rucksacks on. Davy had taken the lead of the group. Josh was using a stick to batter the tall grass as he walked along. Tex started to whistle a tune and soon they all join in. It was the tune they had picked up from from the movie Stripes. Bill Murray, Harold Ramis and John Candy whistling “Do Wah Diddy” during their army training. It had become a firm favourite for the boys, particularly the wrestling scene which had entered a 10-year-old boys folklore.
They continued walking and soon the trees became large, thick and tall. The sky was hidden by the green ceiling above. Dead branches and leaves littered the floor which was a dark brown colour. Pete’s earlier determination began to drop off and he was soon lagging behind the group, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“I’m hungry” said Pete, trudging behind, hoping for a break.
“Jesus!! We haven’t even been goin an hour and your already hungry!” snapped Tex. “Yeah, but its glan”....before Pete could finish his sentence, they all finished it for him: “Glandular!” they said in unison.
Davy cupped his hands in front of him and they all laughed. They continued walking and began to enter a very heavily wooded area. The light dropped as the sun was unable to penetrate the thick canopy of the trees. It seemed much colder, much darker. Some of the trees are huge redwoods, hundreds of years old. Insects float along and reflect off the very few sun beams that make it down to the ground. Its deathly quiet – the only noise is the sound of twigs and leaves rustling on the floor as they troop through the cavernous forest. They continue following what looks to be a track but in reality, is just a natural path, and if they happened to look left or right there would be countless other so called paths snaking away. It was clear no-one had been around here in years. There were alone, isolated.
They climbed higher and higher up the gradual slope. It was relentless, no levelling out, just upwards. The kind of walk where it didn’t seem it was going to end. Trees looming over head and it was difficult to tell one from another. Josh continued to swat away the overgrowth with his stick.
“Where the hells Devils Gorge?? Are we even going the right way?” asks Pete angrily at the back of the group. “We’ll soon be crossing the god damned state line”. He picked up a stick he noticed on the floor – as straight as an arrow with a point to match - and began jabbing as though it was a weapon. It didn’t last long as he realised he was expending even more energy.
“A bit more, I reckon” said Josh who was now at the front and setting the pace. “No shit” uttered Pete under his breath as he ambled on.
