I decided that since global warming could only bless us with this wonderful October weather for so long before mother winter drop kicks us in the chest with bitter, freezing weather, I needed to go for one last motorcycle ride. So I went down to Nephi with a friend, and up the canyon we drove.
I decided upon the Nebo loop. About 1/4 of the way up, we passed some cowboys herding cows along the road. Which meant there was all manner of cow feces splattered upon said road. Which meant all manner of evasive maneuvering ensued, as I had a constant mental image of my tires spinning out over a pile of excrement, and consequentially ending up on the ground in a confused, wrecked heap. Possibly at the bottom of a cliff. So I was wary of the poo.
On the return trip back down, as we arrived at the bottom of the canyon where the road is relatively flat and straight, those few cows had multiplied into hundreds. I don't know where they found them all, but pretty much every cow in the county was suddenly congregated in a congested, mooing heap in front of me. Not entirely certain what to do, I slowly approached the mass of trotting hamburger, hoping one of the 4 or 5 cowboys would do something about the situation.
One of them looked at me over his shoulder and waved me to follow him. He then began whipping at the cows, and driving a path through the center of them. I was soon engulfed by a swirling mass of pist off bovine. Sometimes you forget just how huge cows are, until you are surrounded by them on a motorcycle. Which probably isn't a terribly common occurrence. They were all milling about in frantic confusion, with many angry moos and lots of rolling eyes. Not to mention fecal drizzlings. I kept waiting for a addled cow to confusedly lumber into the motorcycle, and thus send us spilling to the earth, wallowing in fear and excrement, awaiting the humiliating death by cow trampling. "So...how did Fish die?" "He got trampled to death...by cows. Seriously. By cows. They just walked on him till he died." Mortifying.
So finally, after several nerve racking moments, we burst forth from the bovine womb, miraculously unscathed. Seriously, it was like 100 yards worth of cow. A great wall of cow. A hamburger fortress. A steak border fence. A barrier of flesh and hooves.
I'll stop now.