Hannibal:  Gentlemen, we’re going mountain biking.

B.A. Baracus:  Whattya mean we’re going mountain biking?  It’s cold out there.  The wind is blowin’.  B.A. Baracus doesn’t ride bikes.  And he doesn’t ride them in the snow.

Face: I got the bikes.  They’re right outside.  Nice ones.

B.A.: B.A. doesn’t bike in 10 degree weather.

Hannibal: It’s a training mission at an undisclosed location.  We’re going to ride up and down the side of hill in a local park in the center of town.  It’s tight singletrack, with lots of twists and turns.  Great for strength training.

B.A.: What’s singletrack?

Face: It means the trail is wide enough for the bike tires, but maybe not someone the size of you.  However, there are no leaves on the trees in winter, and the undergrowth is dead.  You should be fine.

(B.A. grimaces.  They head to the garage to grab the bikes.)

B.A.: Why can’t we use the trainers?  Spin on the rollers inside where it’s warm?

Hannibal: It’s not the same.

B.A.: Where we headed?

Face: To a trail that’s not on the map.  No one will be there, especially on a morning like this.


Training Ground

B.A.: You see me clear that log?!

Hannibal: You see me clear the one earlier?

B.A.: These uphills are slick though.  I don’t like ’em.

Pause. Another Log Ahead.

B.A.: What kinda fool would put a pumpkin by the trail?

Face: Someone like Murdock.

Trailside Gem

B.A.: Hey, where is Murdock?  My head wasn’t on straight this morning when we started this mission.  I forgot about Murdock.  Where’s Murdock?

Hannibal: Murdock is not here.

Face: Murdock doesn’t exist today, B.A.

B.A.: Murdock doesn’t exist.  Whatchu talkin’ about?

Hannibal: It’s time for us to get going.  This mission is complete.

Making Tracks

independent writer

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