So a week and change ago, I was coming back from Nebraska with the Goose. We were driving her car...a Hybrid.
Now, normally I drive a Mustang. That car has juice...you breathe on the gas pedal and find you are a mile down the highway.
Her car, being a hybrid, has slightly less power. You step on the gas, go make your breakfast, come back and hope to have vacated the parking space.
Well, we were moving a good deal of material possessions so said little car was...well...slower than normal. Slower off the line. Slower to the line. Slower looking at the line. Just plain slower.
Not that there is anything wrong with a top speed of 7 mph...but when crossing the scenic wonders of Nebraska...Wyoming....large parts of Utah, Idaho and Eastern Oregon...which all look pretty much the same, bleak, brown and boring...sometimes it is good to move a bit quicker.
Well, at one point in Idaho she was driving. Imagine, if you will, a gently purring kitten..."whiirrrrrrrr" goes the engine as we begin our entrance to the highway via the onramp. Unfortunately for any designs we had of covering an entire mile that day, it was an uphill onramp.
Suddenly we noticed a vehicle change lanes to get in the slow lane which was going to be impeded in their rather rapid approach by our noticeably slower road speed.
So the Goose stepped on the gas pedal. With a throaty roar the machine powered its way up to highay speeds is what we might say had we been driving the Mustang. Or a Go-Kart. Or an Amish wagon whose horses had tasted the whip.
As it was, what we heard was "WWWWWHHHHHIIIIIIIRRRRRRRR". Unfortunately, the noise generated by the engine struggling along at 6000 rpms was so fierce it actually slowed our entrance onto the highway....
Well, stories of powerful cars aside, there was an event that occurred I will do my best to make sure nobody ever hears.
See, when coming across Eastern Oregon it is a pretty cool drive. Instead of long, flat sections of dry brown scenery we suffered in Nebraska, Wyoming and parts of Utah, now you get to see long, hilly sections of dry brown scenery....
Also, it was close to 100 degrees every day of the drive. So not only was it a long, slow, boring drive...it was hot. All who know me know heat makes me irritable.
So we stopped in Baker City for some delicious ice cream at the Dairy Queen.
We let Bella out of her crate, walked her for a bit. Then we sat at a picnic table in the shade to eat our delicious Blizzards. Some nice shrubbery hid us from the sight of anyone not directly opposite the table.
Having spent way too many hours in the cramped car, I suddenly felt the need to stretch. Stepping away from the table, I stretched my arms wide, threw back my head and yawned...
and cut loose with a surprisingly loud fart.
If you have done one, you might as well do two so I let the second one go.
With a third coming right behind I turned my head and said "Thunder some..."
I was going to say somewhere, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the two people who had just pulled into the adjacent parking spot. With their windows down. And their eyes fully on me.
Somehow pulling the third one back in, I ducked back to the table in embarrassment and buried my head in my hands.
Whereupon my loving wife commenced to laughing so hard she actually ended up being physically incapable of finishing her Blizzard.
So we spent a few minutes enjoying the shade hiding in our cubbyhole until they left. Because after that performance...there is no way I was going to show my face when random strangers I did not know and would never meet again might know that I have the capability of such monstrous flatulence.
Fortunately, the only two people on earth who know I am and that I did that are me and the goose. Nobody else will ever know.
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