The Tale of the Teleporting Tortoise

Ride #106

nce upon a time, not too far away (as Terrestrial distances go) and not terribly long ago, a strange three-wheeled amalgam of trike and human set off on a short journey.

This was supposed to be a short trip, and it was. It could have turned into a long strange trip, but this is supposed to be a family friendly blog, so forget that.

Normally this three-wheeled contraption conquers canals, tears up trails, and generally zestfully zips along at a healthy 12-14mph. Today, however, the contraption, hereafter known for the duration of this story as Tortoise, lumbered along at an absolutely blazing 8.4 mph average. There was one redeeming moment down hill at 21mph, but that did not make up for previous and subsequent lollygagging, loafing, and general laziness.

Perhaps Tortoise (and I will learn to spell that by the end of this tale) was a little tired. Perhaps Tortoise's sore tooth was troubling her, or maybe (and most likely) Tortoise was just enjoying the comfortable 73 degrees, for once not feeling like she had to go fast to get a breeze to cool off from going so fast.

As Tortoise loafed along, she noticed vegetation for a while.

Then she was distracted (tortoises are often distractable, but most non-tortoises don't notice this because noticing the distractability requires paying attention to the tortoise for quite a while and the observers tend to fall asleep. Are you asleep?) by Folsom's lovely bicycle infrastructure. So Tortoise stopped and took some more pictures.

Coming back up towards the end of her ride, Tortoise started thinking about, nay drooling about, a nice warm latte with foam to tickle her nose and caffeine to wake her up a bit and warm milk to cheer her up a bit. So Tortoise took a shortcut, skipping the duck pond altogether.

Quite soon after this attempt to speed up her ride by judicious editing (and I've tried to tell Tortoise that such edition does not count as going faster, but rather might be considered a form of cheating) she was passed for the SECOND time by a kind fellow who mentioned the tantalizing possibility that Tortoises teleported!

Now, I've tried and tried and tried (and eventually fell asleep waiting for Tortoise's response) to tell Tortoise that teleportation is not really possible, despite all the scifi books devoured (not literally! but literarily) by her. Tortoise refuses to relinquish this idea so I suppose this is

The End

The wine ride was canceled so I've come up with a daringly daft yet deranged idea of a 47 mile ride to get ready for Foxy's Fall Century (I'm doing the metric) in October.
Stay tuned.