A Close Encounter

I am thankful for the grace of God and His arms of protection.

After safely driving eleven-plus hours, Amber and I were within a mile of our destination when life could have changed dramatically.

Katie: Your roads are narrow here.
Amber: Not really.  It's because I'm driving in the middle of the road due to the deer.  If I go back where I belong they're not that narrow.
Katie: I guess so.

As she was returning to her place in the middle of the road, a deer as tall as the car charged our passenger side.

I only saw the buck out of my peripheral vision, but Amber saw him head-on.  We cannot explain how.  He was in her blind spot, so we think she might have looked at me to talk.  If she hadn't, his antlers would have been through the window (and possibly into my head?).  As it were, she swerved towards the center of the road the same time the deer changed direction and ran parallel to our car.

Katie: Did you hit him?
Amber: I DON'T KNOW!  Did you hear anything?
Katie: Nothing that sounded like deer-hitting noises.  Only gravel squishing noises.

Upon further inspection of her car, there are no antler scratches and no deer fur.

There is no reason we should have made it home unscratched.  We were charged by a buck!  And yet we did.  Because God is good.  All the time.

<>< Katie

Of course, when we got home a mile later, the adrenaline was still pumping and going to bed was not an option, even though we had to be up again in less than seven hours. That morning was rough.

Tales of Nikki and Katie: The Episode of the Bike (Helmet)

In my family, when you turn double-digits, you get two big presents: a mountain bike and a bedroom set.  It kind of worked that way for me and my parents kept the tradition for my sisters.  So, on my tenth birthday we all hopped in the van and drove to the same bike shop where my mom and grandfather got their first adult bikes.  I still remember the day. This must have been before my purple phase because I came home with a maroon bike that I absolutely loved and a red helmet I tolerated.  I'm now twenty-one and that same bike came to college with me. 

Nikki hates to walk everywhere from our middle-of-nowhere apartment, so I offered her the use of my bike.  Problem: I'm tall; Nikki's not.  We tried to find a seat-height that would satisfy both of us but couldn't.  Finally we realized the seat moves very easily, a brand new feature back in 1999 when I bought my bike.  When Nikki wanted to ride it, she could lower the seat.  When I wanted to ride my bike, I could raise it.  Very simple; very easy.  I told her the code to my combination lock, and we were set.

A few days later, my bike was missing from our second-story porch because Nikki took me up on my offer.  Except Nikki was in the living room.
Katie: Where's my bike?
Nikki: OH MY GOSH!  Katie, you have the smallest seat in the world!
Katie: I have the smallest butt in the world.
Nikki: It's in my office.  I rode it to work and go so fed up with it that I got a car ride back.

This was Friday meaning my bike was locked in there over the weekend.  Not really a big deal.  Nikki also conveniently wore a dress for the next several days meaning she couldn't ride my bike back.

Nikki: Next time you're up near the caf, swing by my office and pick up your bike because it might stay there all semester if you don't, and we really need the space back.
Katie: Yeah, I'll remember to take my helmet with me to the caf.  That's not dorky.

Last fall, I crashed on my bike.  My thoughts went something like this, "Road?  Sidewalk?  Road?  Sidewalk?  Road.  Crap, speed bumps.  Just kidding!  Sidewalk."

I learned something very important: You can't do "just kidding" on a bike.  Indecisiveness leads to skinned knees

Since I've always been very safety conscious and I have a history of bike crashes, I wear a red helmet when I ride my maroon bike.  I also ski with a purple helmet and have been known to Wii Bowl in my ski helmet.  Yes, everyone laughs at me.  I've decided I'd rather be the dork with the helmet than the dork with the broken head.

When I did finally retrieve my bike from Nikki's office, I rode it down the hallway, on the sidewalk, through the grass, across the parking lot, up the hill, through the building, and up the stairs without a helmet.  It was terrifying.  And liberating. 

When I told my mom this story, she laughed all the way through it.  When I got to the "So I rescued my bike and rode it home without a helmet" part she said she was proud of me.  Huh?!

And now I face a major decision: Helmet or no helmet?  That is the question.

<>< Katie