Page 28 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
"Anything you say, Princess Luna."
She rolls her eyes, grabs her crutch, and stomps toward the hallway. Southpaw yawns, scratches, then pads after her withslow dignity. As he passes, the animal shoots me a glance—half warning, half cynical smirk.
It’s like he knows exactly what I’m planning.
Our Honda FourTrax quad bike is by far the most fun vehicle in the fleet. It’s an ATV—All Terrain Vehicle—and it’ll go anywhere, no matter how steep, wet, or slippery the ground. Basically, it’s a dirt bike with four wheels. It steers like a motorcycle but has the stability of a truck, with racks front and back and a trailer hitch for hauling gear. The massive knobby tires and high suspension will take you pretty much wherever you want to go.
While Luna’s inside getting ready, I back the FourTrax out of the barn, fill the tank, grab two helmets, and ride it around to the front yard so she doesn’t have far to hobble.
When she opens the door and sees me sitting on it, I can practically feel her hesitation.
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe,” I call out.
“Yeah,itmight be. What aboutyou?”
I laugh. “Me? Oh, I’m as safe as houses. Promise I’ll go real slow, no racing.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Well… okay then, I guess. How do I get on?”
“I’ve thought about that—what with your ankle and all. Hand me your crutch first.”
She passes it over, and I slide it under the elastic netting on the hood, snug and secure. “Good. Now give me your hand.”
She places her hand in mine, expecting me to help her climb up. Instead, I scoop her up in one smooth motion and set herdown on the ATV, straddling the fuel tank like a startled doll, but facing backwards, not forwards. Just my little joke. I grin widely.
“Hey! What the f?—”
"Oops, sorry. Let's try that again. I pick her up, spin her deftly in my arms, and unceremoniously plonk her back down again onto the quad seat, only this time she's facing forward, her protest cut off by the sheer speed of my maneuver.
“There we go. All comfy? Good. Now put this on.” I hand her the smaller helmet. She glares at me like she’s promising vengeance, but she still puts it on.
Good girl.
I pull on my own helmet and swing into the driver’s seat in front of her. “Okay, Luna, scoot in tight and put your arms around me. If you need me to stop, just give me a squeeze.”
A second later, I feel her arms slip around my waist, tentative but firm. She gives me one test squeeze—message received.
I fire up the engine, which growls to life, kick it into first, and we roar up the mountain track into the trees. The quad bucks and jolts over the rutted trail, but it’s nothing she can’t handle.
A mile or so up, I pull us off to the side, cut the engine, and turn back to her with a grin.
“All okay so far?”
She pulls off her helmet and shakes her pink hair free, sunlight glinting off it. “Yes, all good. Why did we stop?”
“Two reasons. First, wanted to check you weren’t clinging on in terror.” I tilt my head like I’m asking a question.
She smiles and shakes her head. “No, no. Honestly, I’m really enjoying it. It’s great to be outside after a week of being cooped up in that kitchen.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Second reason—this is The Tour, and every good tour needs a guide.”
She smirks. “Oh God. Go on then.”
“The forest here is mixed,” I begin. “That means both deciduous and evergreen tree varieties.” I point as I talk, watching her actually listen instead of rolling her eyes. “Most of what you see around us is evergreens—Douglas fir, Ponderosa pine, Western hemlock, Western red cedar, and Whitebark pine. Sometimes you’ll find Engelmann spruce and Shasta red fir too, but I don’t see any of those here.”
