"Adventure is the result of poor planning."

Last night I got home from work, changed out of my still-relatively-ironed pants and shirt and decided to go for a motorcycle ride. I got this new motorcycle, see, and it's theoretically capable of going into places that are not paved without falling over. This is something my old motorcycle could not do, as Penelope and her recurring leg ache can attest. So I hopped on and rolled out, buzzing down my street and through a shopping mall parking lot, then to the highway for a mile or so, when I exited to an area full of truck stops. It is *the* place to go in town if you want cheap gas, cb accessories or strip clubs. I figured it'd be perfect.

Sure enough, behind a facility servicing Big Rigs, or manufacturing solvents of some sort (it was doing neither when I got there; the workers had all gone home for the day) there was a mysterious grassy trail leading out of a gravel parking area. About fifty yards back I could just spot some railroad tracks. I rode a quick loop through the lot, considering my options and stirring up white dust, then plunged into the weeds.

It turned out you can't really get to the tracks from there, but there did seem to be something of a trail through the underbrush, running parallel to the rails. I followed that a little ways, but the plant life soon got to be taller than my handlebars, and I had to stand up on the pegs to keep out of the thorns. I quickly noticed that there was no longer a discernible path, and started scanning the area for a clearing so I could turn around. No luck.

I ended up having to shut off the bike, climb off into chest-deep weeds, in shorts, and try to muscle it around 180 degrees - all while avoiding the sizzling muffler and engine. I thought of a particular quote, which you see above, which Google tells me originated with a Colonel Blatchford Snell.

During the ride back to the gravel lot, I felt a sudden ripping down on my shin, and when I got into the clearing I looked down to see that the thorns had gotten me. I've got some picturesque scrapes now, which I naturally showed Penny the moment I got home. She gasped and scolded me, and I beamed, proud and satisfied with my adventure.