Damascus, Part II

This is a continuation of Damascus, Part I.

I was already at the rental house when the others arrived.

“Hey Brendan, how are you?”
“I’m finer than frog hair. “
He introduced me to a short, box shaped man with a grey goatee, “This is Dee. he does 3rd party logistics.”
“And Matt,” turning to a tall man in his late 20’s. “He works with me.”

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.
“Tonight we are riding into town for pizza. We will ride the trail tomorrow, then dinner and the theater. Back home Thursday.”

We had only 3 bikes, so one of us was going to have to drive to dinner. I thought about volunteering because I had no confidence that I would be able to ride a mile, but I didn’t want my first bike ride in 15 years to be down the side of a mountain. I know you are not supposed to forget how, but I wanted to remember on flat land.

The pizza place was in a supermarket plaza. Pizza with strangers usually involves complex negotiations, but this place had a buffet so the process was painless.

For Dee, Matt and Brendan this trip was an extension to the sales conference they attended earlier in the week, and at first they were talking about things they had done together and people I didn’t know. They were laughing a lot. I was listening for a chance to contribute or a joke I could understand.

The waitress came over to refill our drinks. I didn’t notice her paying any extra attention, but as soon as she left, Matt and Dee both started saying that she really liked Brendan. As she was the only woman in the place that was even moderately attractive, the subject was interesting enough for a few minutes of conversation, and it was a joke for the rest of the trip.

Matt mentioned that he was engaged. Dee started to talk about his impending divorce and Brendan cut him off. “We are getting away for a few days. No work and no divorce.” Matt and I both told stories about friends who had made dumb relationship choices.

We ate pizza, drank root beer and talked about nothing in particular for a while longer.

Matt had been the one to drive to dinner, but Brendan drove back, allowing Matt some bike time. The parking lot was about 10 feet higher than the trail. Before dinner we had walked our bikes up the steep hill. After, we rode them down. Knowing that the next day we would be riding down the side of a mountain, this seemed like good practice.

The descent was without incident, but before we had gotten far Matt had a problem with his gears. Dee was in front, and he continued on, unaware of the problem. I stopped and waited, looking for opportunities to make suggestions as Matt turned his bike upside down and worked the peddles with his hands, watching the chain turn.

The ride to the restaurant had been easier than I expected. Struggling on the way back, I realized that the trail only looked flat. I was glad that our trip to town in the morning would be down hill.