Deer and Clothing in South Carolina

Hello Urban Tribe! After eight sunny days, 2000 miles, and one fabulously read (but not well written) book we’re finally back. Sorry to hear you weren’t able to pull out a victory in our absence. Hopefully this week we can turn it around.

Unfortunately, we’ll have to do it sans Shannon. As some of you might have heard Mayday McKenzie had a little mishap.

It was another beautiful day in Charleston, South Carolina when we set out on the fresh-cookie warm asphalt trail for our final bike ride. Thirteen minutes into the twenty minute ride, I looked up ahead and saw a slender, white-tailed deer bound across the trail. It passed over the road in front of us, stepped up to the banks of a still pond, awkwardly bent its stiff front legs, and began lapping.

As we approached, the deer calmly looked up in our direction. Birds chirped, the sun shone and the serenity was only enhanced by steady hum of the rubber tires grooving on the black trail surface. Sensing no danger, the hornless fawn drew its head back to the water.

But before quenching its thirst further an obnoxious black SUV came sputtering down the road. Little Bambi looked up again but with eyes opened wide. Her head frantically darted back and forth.

As I passed, the deer began to sprint across the road. But its hooves on the street started skidding and clicking. She stalled in place looking as if governed by the laws of physics found in cartoons. When she regained her footing she became an uncontrolled train barreling down a track.

And that track led right to Shannon. I looked back to see the brown battering ram crash squarely into her. The impact sent her flying into the wooded trail border along with the black wire bike basket and her sunglasses. As the criminal critter fled the scene, I skidded to a stop to aide my fallen bride.

Shaken and dazed, she stood up and began picking the foliage out of her hair. Even after being run over by a deer, Shannon likes to look good. After a few minutes of stunned silence Shannon attempted to complete the ride. But with her sore shoulder and overall weariness she couldn’t continue. A family of fellow vacationers drove by on a golf cart and kindly gave her a ride. Alone, worried, I rode back to the hotel towing the riderless cycle at my side.

When I finally met her in our room, she was comfortably recovering. Her shoulder was sore and we were still pulling grass out of her hair hours later.

It’s been three days and the soreness hasn’t left. Unfortunately, that means she won’t be able to aid us in our bid to break our volleyball slump. She’ll be there to cheer us on and hopefully be back to her breathtaking bumping next week. And Bambi…well one can only hope she avoids bikes and Broncos in the future.

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