Screams like a gurl?

After putting in some hard work on my project, I decided to reward myself with a drive to Idaho (I know I know… some of you are saying that is a punishment, but after being in the city for nearly a week I needed out). It was way too damn hot to go south, so north it is. I headed out of Salt Lake City, with the goal of Burley, Idaho.

Burley was not too far. Something I could do to stretch my legs a little. Boise was too far. I asked Julie if she wanted to split the difference (she lives in Boise), and she was game.

So anyways, it took me two *&W^ing hours to get to Ogden, UT. That is not very far! Road construction, heat, traffic… it was horrible. I decided to dump the freeway and let Zuma (my GPS) guide me. She took me through Farmington on country roads and I was able to skirt the gridlock emerging in North Ogden without being on the freeway. If I had stayed on the freeway, it probably would have taken another hour.

It got real close and personal today on the road. I rounded the corner near Willard Bay and drove into a swarm of bugs (knats?). They covered my helmet shield and smacked all over my body. Ewww…! Then, I passed what must have been cattle feed houses in Idaho, and the smell was sooo horrible, I thought I was going to puck in my helmet. Eww! Not all the smells were bad; fresh rain, sage brush, and the general smell of the countryside made it wonderful. The scenery in Idaho, even from the freeway, gave me just what I needed.

When I drove down from Alaska this last April (in a truck), I saw some wildlife, but nothing really darted in front of the truck, with one exception; birds. While driving past Dease Lake, British Colombia, I drove into a small flock of birds and I heard the thump as at least one hit the grill. I felt so horrible because I killed something. I refused to look and made Julie look. She plucked the poor unfortunate soul from the truck and then proceeded to poke at me verbally about the murder I committed. At one point she asked me what kind of bird I thought it had been, I responded it was a “stupid bird.”

I bring this up because last night, while going about 80 miles an hour, I hit a fairly large bird on my motorcycle. Now let me tell you this is an experience in scaring the crap out of you. It came out of nowhere, a variety of the “stupid bird” species. I hit it with my right handlebar blinker assembly and nearly chopped it in half. There were bird guts everywhere. Eww! I pulled off the side of the road and took a look at the situation…. Ewww! I danced around a little in the emergency lane, upset I had killed another creature. I wondered if the gods of the universe were teaching me or sending me a message. Two birds in 4 months? At least it died quickly. I sighed. I didn’t cry this time when I killed it.

Okay. Its dead, get over it. It was stuck to my motorcycle and it appeared to be beheaded (I have to start calling the bird “it” to maintain detachment.. notice?). So who is going to pluck the carcass off my bike? No one was around, and this carcass was messy and gross. I scanned the desert for a stick, that’s what gurls do… we don’t touch things like that with our bare hands! Stick found, I poked at it. Hoping it would fall off in one large piece… no luck. This resulted in another series of dancing and wiggling in the emergency lane, with a few shudders and interesting noises added in for effect. Carcass still stuck. More poking. It appeared one of the wings was wrapped around my bike… sighing. I finally wiggled it lose and it fell to the ground with a loud “thump.” This of course caused me to launch back like it was going to get me! More dancing in the emergency lane took place, AND I screamed like a gurl – one loud Ewwwwwww! I evaluated the possibility of throwing up – not needed. I mounted my bike (avoided looking down) and pressed on. Welcome to Idaho.

Dead bird wrapped around motorcycle handlebars.

Idaho, the land of farmers…
Illy's where are you?
About Maya

My name is Maya, and I wander.


  1. […] through.. of all the awful places, bad memories… the people that are best forgotten, and the place on the road where I decapitated that animal with my motorcycle mirror. To tell you the truth, if I wasn’t pushed for time, I probably would have driven around […]

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