obfuscational hazard

I suppose you want to know whether or not it held together, Monkey Keys. That cliffhanger was down right tingly! I could end a primetime season like that. I mean, not a GOOD primetime season, but something like Grey’s Anatomy.

Our heroes fought hard against the raging river. The trio paddled for hours until they finally brought the boat around a bend; only one and a half miles to go.

And the sandal held.

“Blahhhh…” growled Hobbes as he threw his san-ddle in the corner. “Let’s just live on this river forever.”

“Quiet,” murmured Stancliff as he tilted his ear up the river. “I hear an outboard.” The three ran to the starboard side of the craft and stared downriver. Sure enough, a wee boat was plodding along toward them on a lazy Friday morning cruise.

“We’re saved! Huzah!” cheered Nicolai as he waved the tiny craft in.

“Well sir, looks like you boys is in a hoop dingy!” said a strange foreign man.

“I guess you could say that,” Stancliff smiled. “I don’t suppose we could persuade you fine folks to tow us a few miles upstream?”

“Oh, we’d be please as punch. Same think ‘ere happened to old Hank a bout a fortnight back. He’s claim he spent the night on the river, but we know better, the old scallywag.”

A short while later and the three were back at the palace telling their miraculous story. I hung on Hobbes’s every word until I had to ask the inevitable question.

“So, is the ship fixed so we can go out?”

“Well, luckily me and Stancliff grabbed a starter from town and rigged it back up. She should be ready to go, but I’m not sure if Stancliff wants to bring everyone just in case it breaks.” Nicolai had been walking by as Hobbes said this.

“Nonsense! We can cram all of us on the ship!” he said. “Everyone who wants on the ship, get over here!” So he, Hobbes, myself, Finnius, Megion, Moni, Bobby, Rick, Kendal, Jamie, and Brian all lined up in front of Stancliff who was standing atop his ship looking cross about Nicolai’s announcement.

“Nicolai, I’m not sure this is a great idea,” he muttered.

“Pish posh. Come on, I need four other people in my chariot.”

“I’m in, Nicolai,” I called as I jumped in his chariot. It ended up not mattering though, because about ten minutes later all 12 of us were piled on Stancliff’s ship at the edge of the river.

“I need a few more people up front so this thing actually planes out!” Stancliff yelled as the engine sparked to life. I meandered to the very front tip of the ship and gazed over the rolling river. Our little piece of humanity was alone in a dense forest. Thick trees lined the river as far as the eye could see. They came right into the river actually. The whole moment was very Huckleberry Fin meets Jerry Springer. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we passed a ramshackle cabin with and old, beard to his ankles, moonshine at his side, man that was busy strumming a banjo and oiling a shotgun simultaneously.

We passed no people at all though. Stancliff powered the ship two or three miles up the vacant river and brought it to a small clearing in the forest with a park bench.

“Ok, I need half of you out,” Stancliff said as he cut the engine and we drifted ashore. “The Queen of Wings wants to try wake boarding.”

“We shouldn’t be too long,” Jamie said as she donned her aquatic armor. Our action squad set to splitting itself. Ere three minutes had gone by, Finnius, Lady Kendal of Oz, Stancliff, Nicolai, and Jamie were off on the boat.

Our shore party, consisting of the other people I don’t have the energy to list, looked for something entertaining to do. After seconds of soul searching, Sir Rick of Hawkhill decided it would be prudent to swim across the river which was roughly 1000 feet across.

The rest of us, content with this spectacle, plopped on a log to bear witness.

“You kill that river, Rick!” yelled Hobbes as the lone solder paddled through the water. After a few moments, Hobbes followed suit. It didn’t take long to notice Sir Rick was struggling against the river. He had made it about halfway across when he turned toward us and started back.

Hobbes was close to Rick and decided to drop in to see how he was doing.

“How’s the leisurely swim,” Hobbes said as he forced his way to an audible distance.

“Hobbes,” Rick panted. “I don’t… think I’m… going to make it.” Rick was flailing slightly and grasping at the water. Hobbes started swimming beside him. The great knight weighed at least 80 pounds more than Hobbes. There was no hope of supporting his weight and swimming with him.

“Rick,” Hobbes started as his own muscles began to burn. “You’re alright man. Try doing a backstroke.” Rick turned on his back and started using the new muscle group. The shore was still a football field away.

I looked out at the pair. Bobby the Brave must have sensed his comrade was in trouble, and stood at my side.

“Feanor, Rick doesn’t look so good does he?” he asked. I winced against the setting sun trying to make out Rick’s face.

“Maybe you should go after him…” Megion said. Bobby contemplated this, but held his ground. Perhaps Rick was ok.

“You got this man,” Hobbes repeated as the two struggled forward. Rick’s head disappeared occasionally under the water. Each time Hobbs’s hair stood on end. Rick was a proud soldier, and Hobbes knew he wouldn’t have said anything unless there was real trouble. “Sidestroke is a good one too.”

Rick’s strength had reached critically negative amounts. He pushed with everything he had against the water, but the shore was still a ways off. His vision blurred and he felt his body sank, but this time the murk of the riverbed met his hand. He coughed hard and pulled his body forward. Bobby jogged out to help him up.

“No,” coughed Rick. “No, I’m fine.” We watched as Sir Rick drug himself ashore. “Hobbes, thanks man.” He panted as he put his head back on a log. “It wasn’t looking so great back there for a second.”

“Yeah, I dare say we thought you were done for,” Megion said. “What’s wrong with you boys? The Steeds, and all manner of trying to kill yourselves must get old.”

“Not as old as you’d think,” I said with a smirk. I missed Firebolt. At length, Rick got to his feet and we started to relax. A journey to the Northern Lands of Carolina needed less tension.

Our tension break lasted all of 20 minutes before we found more. As we joked about Rick’s near death experience, it was nearing 8:10 pm. No one wanted to spread more negative sentiment, but it had been nearly an hour since we last saw Stancliff or his hearty crew. Brian Tenterfoot was first to snap.

“Guys, something is clearly wrong,” he said looking out over the river. There was no sound other than the rolling water and cicadas. “They totally should have been back by now.”

“I mean, not necessarily,” Moni said trying to retain some optimism. “Does anyone have a carrier pigeon or owl to contact Stancliff?” Of course, no one did.

“I’m serious, guys. I mean, we really need to start thinking of a way to get out of here on foot,” Brian said. “It’s nearly dark, we’re in the middle of the woods, none of us knows where we are, half of us don’t even have shoes!” I glanced at Hobbes’s shoeless feet. What if the ship had wrecked again?

“Yeah, but we could probably just follow the river back to the dock,” Moni said glancing through the undergrowth. The thick trees made their way straight into the water.

“Look at us, we’re basically nude!” Brian said gesturing around. “We can’t go bushwhacking through the Brazilian marsh in swim trunks and sunglasses. The bugs will eat us alive, and who knows what is under water. It’s going to be dark soon, and Stancliff may be stranded on the water. No one knows we’re here. We have to do something!”

“Brian, calm down,” Megion said. “Maybe we should wait another 10 minutes or so. If the ship doesn’t come back, we’ll start down that path.” Megion pointed toward a rocky set of tire tracks that wound its way into the dense woods.

“We don’t even know where that goes!” Brain lamented. “We’re going to be stumbling down a rock path, nude, in the dark; I mean it’s game over man! Game over!”

“I think she’s right,” I said looking up toward the sun. “We need to decide what to do. Let’s give Stancliff another 20 minutes or so, then we need to get moving. No one knows we’re out here other than him, and if the boat did break, we could be stranded all night. The path should lead to a road, and we can find the dock or Stancliff’s palace or something from there.”

Hobbes grabbed a stick in his hand and wandered toward the beach.

“We’d better leave some kind of message in case they come back.” With a quick display of calligraphic prowess, he left a tale of our meanderings.

Stancliff, left down the path at 8:30.

I grabbed an armful of sticks and constructed a crude arrow atop the note pointing in the direction we went. Everyone decided our band was smarter than Survivor Man, and we proceeded down the path.

“How can we even be sure this goes anywhere?” Brian asked as the trees closed in around us. “I mean, we’re probably going to be eaten by Sasquatch’s inbred cousin before we even find the first shine still back here.”

“It’s more likely we’ll be eaten by these rocks,” Hobbes winced as he limped along hobbit style behind us.

“Hobbes, maybe we can trade off with my sandals,” I said. “That’s got to be wicked painful…”

“I’ll let ya know, Feanor,” he managed a smile as we came to a fork in the road.

“I do think it would be right to follow the path closest to the water,” Megion said glancing toward our left. “The other path could go to all manner of horribleness.”

“No way man,” Brain said glancing back and fourth. “The left path looks like it hasn’t been tread since the Cretaceous. At least the right looks a bit beaten down. Maybe a chariot has been by here recently.”

We reluctantly took the right path, losing sight of our river. As the band continued along the path, I gathered several more sticks and pointed them to the right.

“Godspeed, Stancliff,” I murmured looking back the way we came. I took one last look at the river through the tree line, and ran after the gang.

I caught up to Hobbes first. He had slowed to a crawl over the jagged rocks of the path, and the others were getting dangerously out of range and soon vanished around a bend.

“Hobbes, I have an idea,” I said removing my left sandal. “Put this on, and we’ll both favor our sandaled foot. We’ll at least be able to keep up.” Hobbes agreed, and soon we were hopping after the others.

In about a minute we made it to the bend. As we rounded the corner, we both came to a dead stop. The path before us descended into a marshy wasteland. Slime green water bordered the path on either side, and a light haze floated about. An old dilapidated dock stood to our right crumbling into the murk.

We stared at each other not knowing what else to do. Alone, with the sun gripping tightly to the horizon, we hobbled down the path into the unknown.

Four hours of sleep later, Monkey Keys, and my head was feeling none the better. I had been able to commandeer a bed in Moni’s tower for my 20 winks. Little did I know, however, the construction peasants across the street had a deadline to meet for Queen Mary Sue Coleman. Jackhammer noise has a habit of traveling. So I woke at 6:30am. It was for the best though as my chariot needed to be moved before the knights of the kingdom claimed it for their queen. We had already endured enough vehicular heartbreak for one trip.

Upon returning from my sub plot of “finding a place to park that’s closer than Middleton, Ohio,” I was greeted by the fellowship and a feast of a thousand pancakes. Pancakes are known to sooth even the savage beast, but we had business to discuss.

“So ‘obbes,” Sir Jon the Gear Slayer said between bites of breakfast treat. “Any thought if yer up ta ridin’ with me?” Hobbes glanced down at his plate a moment. He had constructed an odd sausage biscuit out of a sliced pancake and butter.

“Jon, I just don’t see this one happening. I mean, if you wanted to ride your steed down we could switch off whenever someone got tired.”

“Ah’ve seen the way ye drive, ‘obbes. There’s better chance of rollin’ 12 on one die than lettin’ ye ride me steed.” Hobbes counted a few fingers and frowned.

“Jon, you’ve come so far,” Moni piped in as she brought out more sustenance. “Surely there has to be a way we can get you to come with us.”

“Oh yes, Sir Jon,” Megion enthusiastically agreed. “Why, our band of simpletons is made so superior by your presence.” Finnius piled several cakes together and dipped them in syrup.

“I don’t see how the six of us would fit in one chariot,” he said as he took a bite of the cake-wich. “Befi, we wowin be ‘owein oo eal ‘ap ‘ust for ‘on.”

“No one can understand a thing you’re saying,” I mumbled, but he was right. Jon must have known it too. He looked down with a deep sigh and started to gather his armor and some supplies.

“Ah’ll ‘ead south to the barrens. There’s a beastie there who needs a slayin’.”

“No, Jon, it doesn’t have to be this way!” I protested as he got to his feet and began to walk to the door. “Jon, we can make room! We can tie Finnius to the roof…” Jon looked at me blankly for a moment as he zipped his leather armor. I nodded. “I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king.”

“Peace be with ye, Feanor…” Jon stepped out of the apartment door and was out of sight before it shut. A moment passed as we all stared at the shut door. The five of us began gathering supplies in silence. As I listened hard against the howling 5th floor wind outside, I thought I could make out a steed coughing to life and riding into the rising sun.

It took another hour to sort our goods and get them crammed in Moni’s chariot. We had to go through another round of consolidation just to make the essentials fit. Then we were finally off. From Ann of Green Arbors, we headed south into the barrens where we miraculously avoided the speed-shield wielding state guardians. The road cut east toward the mountains of West Appalachia. There, Hobbes and I lamented again over the lack of our trusty steeds. Soon we had passed south through the Goddess of Virtue’s dominion and entered the northern lands of Carolina. By the time we made it to the eastern bank, it was well after 11pm.

The palace of Sir Stancliff the Benevolent was a most welcome sight after our long hours of travel. For Maid Megion and Finnius, it was a first glimpse at the beautiful sand gem.

“Tis a thing of beauty, is it not, Finnius?” Megion asked my brother with a wide eyed smile. “I dare say there must be wondrous treasures inside!” The two of them scampered up the embankment into Stancliff’s palace. Hobbes and I chuckled as we gathered the supplies.

“At least we got the kinks worked out of this trip before we got here,” I said with a smile as we approached the rear balcony of the palace.

“HOBBES!” sounded a bellowing roar from the balcony. Sir Stancliff came into view with a gigantic grin spanning his ears. “Come here you old sod!” Stancliff grappled Hobbes and lifted him into the air in either an attack or a sign of affection depending on your bone structure. Hobbes fell to the ground and Stancliff turned his attention to me. “And Feanor too!” He attacked me. I fell to the ground with Hobbes as Stancliff roared with laughter. “How are you guys! I thought you’d never make it. I hear the steeds were left back home. Where’s Jon? What chariot did you take to get here? What are you sitting around for? There are festivities to be had! Come, eat, drink and be merry!” Hobbes and I shared a momentary glance of anticipation.

“After you, Feanor,” he smirked as the two of us headed to the balcony. The other guests had long since arrived. Brian Tenderfoot, Sir Rick of Hawkhill, Lady Kendal of Oz, Bobby the Brave and Stancliff’s own brother, Nicolai Brewmaster. Stancliff’s wife, Jamie Queen of Wings was there too.

The festivities lasted long into the night, and for the first time in several days, I was at peace.

The following morning, long before I woke, Hobbes, Stancliff and Nicolai took to a nearby river in Stancliff’s ship. The plan was for us all to go out on the river later that day for a fun adventure in tubing and skiing and avoiding the Loch Ness Monster.

“Hobbes, you’ll be amazed at what this baby can do,” Stancliff said as the ship roared down the river.

“Your mom will be amazed at what this can do,” Nicolai quipped.

“Nicolai, silence! On this ship, I’m the captain and will make all the lewd commentary.”

“I’m just saying, why are we wasting a perfectly good sleeping morning testing this old bucket?” Hobbes let out a yawn and sank into the back of the boat as it hit open water. “See, you’re putting the poor kid to sleep with all this over the top prep work. Nothing’s going wrong this year.”

“Fine, Nicolai. I’ll make a few minor tweaks and we’ll be gone.” The three stopped the boat at the mouth of the river as Stancliff prodded the engine. “Should be all set!” he exclaimed gleefully as he hit the starter. The engine bickered a few times, and then bickered no more. Nicolai started laughing.

“You moron, you’ve broken it. Now we’re going to die out at sea.”

“No, YOU’RE going to help row us back.”

DYLAN ACTION PHYSICS BREAK!!!

Ok, Monkey Keys. How hard do you have to row to get a 3,000 pound boat to move two miles against a volumetric flow rate of 38ft cubed/sec with only two three foot paddles?

“Ummm…” That’s right! REDICULOUSLY hard!

And they did. Only instead of making it the two miles back to the launch, they made it 100 feet.

“This is absurd…” Hobbes mumbled as the boat crept along at stationary speeds. “This river will freeze from nuclear winter before we get this boat back.” Hobbes gave his paddle another heave and brought it out of the water.

“Uh oh!” Nicolai perked up glancing at Hobbes’s paddle. “One of these things is not like the other!”

“What?” Stancliff inquired glancing from his paddle to Hobbes’s. “Hobbes! The end of your paddle is gone!” Hobbes turned around in time to see the friction oriented end of his paddle sinking into the briny deep.

Nicolai started laughing again. “Now we really are gonna die!”

“Quick,” shouted Stancliff pulling off his sandal. “Duct tape this to the end of your paddle and use it before all our progress is lost!” Hobbes wrapped mounds of duct tape around the sandal and paddle. The thing was nearly MacGyver worthy.

“There’s no way we’re getting back with this!” Hobbes exclaimed as he struggled against the force of the river.

“Don’t worry, she’ll hold together,” called Stancliff as he returned to his paddling. “Come on baby, hold together…”

Holy June, Monkey Keys! I haven’t updated in forev!

“No doubt, Dylan. You haven’t updated in so long, you don’t even have time to write out forever!” No need to rub it in, Bad Boy Key. I’m here now, and showing up is nine tenths of the law.

“I don’t think…” No time, Ellipsis Key. I have a tale to spin. You see, during my absence I went on an epic adventure. Believe it or not (and I’ve been known to lie) this is a true story. It all started during a flashback sequence about three weeks ago…

I was busy putting the finishing touches on my duffle bag of treasures in preparation for a great journey to the northern lands of Carolina. The original plan had been to go there via a terrible pass known as Deal’s Gap where a dragon is known to live. It was to be me, Feanor of Westshore, my good friend Hobbes of Thickgrowth, Sir Jon the Gear Slayer, and Maiden Moni. We would be journeying to the Gap in Sir Jon’s ailing truck of yesteryear with out steal horses in tow. Due to an indecisive twist of fate, however, two additional party members were added that very noon; Maid Megion and my own brother, Finnius of Middleice. The plan to bring only Sir Jon’s truck was scrapped on the fly. We would add in my own chariot to help burden the load of people.

So I packed my duffle of treasure and awaited the fated hour of 7pm. Our departure time came and went with no word from Sir Jon.

“We about ready to embark?” Finnius inquired as I pondered upon a stump.

“We’ve yet to receive word from Jon,” I mumbled looking toward the waning sun. Scarcely had I finished my pessimism when a messenger owl landed atop my bag with a parchment in its beak. It read only;

“The bikes won’t fit! –Jon” Finnius and I looked at each other and grabbed our bags. Without a word he took the reigns of my chariot, and I mounted my steal steed, Firebolt.

“I have to find Jon and figure out what went wrong!” I called to Finnius as Firebolt coughed to life. “Meet me at Hobbes’s hovel. We’ll depart soon enough!” Finnius and I parted ways as I headed west into the unknown. Firebolt rode steadily onward as I followed some directions given to me by Hobbes. Many messenger owls later, I was able to find Sir Jon’s dwelling. I spied him from the trail. He was atop his truck busy tying down a spare tire.

“Jon, I have come from afar!” I called as Firebolt came to a halt. “What news do you bring of the trailer?”

“Feanor, Ah’ve been up fer 2 nights workin’ on ‘er. Aye, she’s a good lass she is. Nearly scraped me steed’s wheels off on ‘er, and had ta file down the metal. She should hold now.”

“That’s great to hear, Jon. We have to get going. It’s already 8:30, and we have to make it through the barrens of Ohio before daybreak.”

“That we do. Ah’ll be ready in an hour.”

“Great, meet us at Hobbes’s,” I called as Firebolt tore into the dusk. I made it there myself at 9pm. An hour later, we were feeling the journey would never start. By 11:45, Jon’s truck finally crested the horizon. Perhaps all was not lost.

“Sweet, let’s load these suckas up!” Hobbes exclaimed as he and I lead our steeds to the trailer. Jon’s trailer had been forged by hand from junkyard parts. It was a marvel of modern engineering. Never could we have imagined a pile of junk could become something so coherent in a matter of days.

We wheeled Hobbes stead, Resix, atop the trailer. It was a tight fit, but seemed to work. Then we pushed Firebolt up. The trailer buckled and spat and the right side came fully to the ground. The right tire compressed itself to impossible proportions and prepared to explode. Jon leapt from the trailer’s side.

“Leapin’ lizard bollocks!” He exclaimed. “She’s a Twinkie away from foulin’ out o’ the pageant! We’re mostly doomed!” The four of us sat on the trail’s edge completely dumbfounded. It was after midnight now, and we suddenly realized there would be no trailer to bring our bikes.

At length I said, “We have to figure something out. The way I see it, we only have a few choices. I say we leave the steeds and head down a different pass to the mountains.”

“Nevah,” said Jon. “Ah’d ride me steed the ‘ole way before Ah’d leave her ‘ere.”

“Well, what if we waited a day,” Hobbes said. “Maybe Jon can fix the trailer and we can go down late tomorrow?”

“Agh, ain’t no guarantee she’s be fixed by tomorrow.”

“We can’t just sit here and argue all night,” I mumbled. After a lengthy squabble, Hobbes finally sided with Jon. He would also bare the ride south. I respectfully declined, and stabled Firebolt. With a tear in my eye, I gave her a pet and climbed in my chariot with Finnius.

“We ride!” Hobbes hollered as we drove off into the night. Our first stop was Ann of green Arbor where the rest of our party anxiously waited. It was already well past 1am.

The ride was slow and quiet as I lamented over leaving my beloved Firebolt. There was no telling if I would even be able to help in slaying the dragon of Deal’s Gap now. Perhaps my silver safety badge had finally made me too safe. I knew a thousand mile journey on Firebolt would have hurt both me and her, but at the time I cared not.

Just before 3am we all made it to Maiden Moni’s tower in Ann of green Arbors. Scarcely had the roar of Hobbes’s Resix quieted when the slaying of the dragon was dealt its second blow.

“Feanor, Jon, I don’t think I can make it to the Gap…” A bloodshot-eyed Hobbes stood before us with the look of a man who wouldn’t even be able to make it to a bed, let alone hundreds of miles. Jon was livid.

“Agh! Ye couldn’ ta told me before we made it ‘ere! Am Ah suppose to ride it alone? Ah won’t even bother comin’ if we’re leavin’ the bikes!”

“Men folk,” Moni spoke up. “It’s already the witching hour. Perhaps we should rest a few hours and depart at daybreak. We can all decide what to do then.” We were supposed to have been south of the barrens by now. We were supposed to have three bikes and a truck. With our guide to the Gap threatening to leave on top of it, we knew there was no hope of slaying the dragon. I drifted to an uneasy dram about Firebolt.