Schwans' truck saga

Bill came home early yesterday because he had a meeting at six. So, we ate hamburgers with "Oprah." And, by the way, anyone who hasn't read John Krakauer's Into the Wild should go find a copy and finish it by Oct. 5. That's when Sean Penn's movie, based on this riveting true story of a young man who starved to death while living in a bus at Alaska's Denali National Park, will open at theaters nationally.

Annie told me a few months ago that she'd seen Sean Penn and Emile Hirsch (star of the movie) at her hotel in Seattle. They were in town filming that segment of Chris McCandless' saga across America, which eventually ended with his mysterious death.

I was excited to hear, at the time, that a movie was coming, and yesterday's "Oprah" provided a great introduction to what could be one of the best-ever true life movies. It will rank right up there with Seabiscuit---I guarantee.

Anyway, after Bill left for his meeting, I picked some beans, put the dogs in the garage and headed off on my bike. Since the weather has cooled a bit, I've been enjoying evening rides around the Selle Valley.

For example, there's a great ride down Woodside Road where, if you're there at the right time, you can see the elk herd that lives on the Wood Ranch. It's all pavement and mostly flat; besides, the huge dump trucks from Wood's Crushing are not moving so one can have enjoy almost sole ownership of the road in the early evening hours.

Last night I decided to take the Hickey Road route, which is about 5-6 miles. Twice before, I've ridden the loop heading down East Shingle Mill Road, turning at Jacobson Road, and then turning north at my friend Jenny's new residence (Ina's home forever). Last night I decided to go the opposite direction, and I also decided to count the deer along the way.

I didn't count on seeing my friend and former student, Jacque Meneely Turner, but while pedaling toward her home, she was arriving home. So, I waved, she stopped, got out of the car with her cut little pooch, and we did some visiting. I knew my window of daylight was short and I had a long way to go, so our visit was a bit abbreviated from the usual gab sessions.

My goal for the evening ride was to count 50 deer in the fields. I figured if I came close, I'd just keep riding until hitting the magic number. That's pretty easy in the Selle Valley. Well, it seemed easy enough last night because I still had more than a mile to pedal when I counted Nos. 50, 51, 52, and 53 in a field to my left.

That last tallying was a bit distracted, however, because I knew a vehicle was coming up behind me, and I didn't want to accidentally pedal out into its path. After the deer count for that particular field, I turned my head backward and saw that the vehicle was THE SCHWANS' TRUCK. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but at that very second, I realized a senior memory lapse had occurred.

The Schwans' man was coming tonight, and Bill had left his usual generous order. Bill wasn't home, but the dogs were. Bill doesn't like to miss the Schwan's man, and he knew he wouldn't have to worry cuz Marianne was home to take care of the order. At least, that's what Bill thought. Lucky for Bill I'd counted my 50-plus deer.

I pedaled like I've never pedaled a bike before as I watched those tail lights move further and further down Selle Road. Hoping he would stop at one of the houses along the way, I remained optimistic that I'd get home in time to jump off my bike, go inside and get that order.

He did not stop anywhere along the road that I could see, and as other cars came from the opposite direction, with their headlights obstructing my view, I could no longer see tail lights. And, I was still more than half a mile away.

I did not stop, look and listen at the UP tracks near the old grange hall. I flew over them, letting fate decide whether a night train headed for Spokane would flatten me. Sadly, if that should happen, no one would know the story that I was really chasing down the Schwan's truck, and even sadder, Bill's order would go unfilled for two weeks until the Schwan's man came again.

Happily, no train was passing through, so I kept on pedaling, knowing my thigh muscles were gonna pay for this. Continuing along at a ridiculous pace for an enjoyable evening bike ride, my hopes were dimming, but, as in any other impossible quest, I reasoned that to give up and slow down after such a supreme effort would be pretty dumb.

So, continuing to push those pedals harder than ever before, I rounded the corner on to South Center Valley Road and flew over newly created mud puddles from yesterday's rain. Arriving at the driveway, I saw no Schwan's truck. Moreover, there were no new wide tire tracks.

Still hope, I thought. Maybe he does go on down Selle Road and doubles back to do our delivery. Nonetheless, to be sure, I called my sisters, who live at the end of the route, and asked them to please tell him to come back to the Lovestead if I had missed him.

I put Lily in her barnyard, rounded up cats and started pickling those green beans. Soon, a welcome sight rolled into the driveway. Cool as a cucumber, I greeted the Schwan's manager who was standing in for the regular driver and gave him the order----but not before scaring the bejeebers out of him by saying, "Ya know, you almost killed me tonight. I was the lady riding the bicycle."

I let his mouth hang open as I told him my saga and that he nearly killed me because I had become a crazy, hell-bent-for-leather woman on that bicycle, knowing my husband would be so disappointed to go two weeks without his Schwan's goodies. When I finished my story, he informed me Schwan's deliverers will leave their cell phone numbers so we can call 'em in such situations. I'm glad to know that for future senior moments involving deer counting adventures on a bicycle.

So, all turned out well last night. Bill has his Schwan's products, I counted 53 deer, I got some extra "extreme" aerobic exercise and have not yet died from over-exertion.