Rocky... road?

I thoroughly enjoy long boarding down Provo canyon. It is so choice. The canyon has a slight decline down the entire trail so as to pave the way for a perfect long boarding ride in which you never have to push, and yet never get going so fast that you feel the need to stop. Really, it is perfect. Because I enjoy it so much, it is my desire for all of my friends to partake.
One night this summer, I convinced my best friend Brian to come along for a ride. He had never ridden a long board, and to put it frankly, is kind of a wuss. I have the magical ability of convincing him to do things of which he has absolutely no desire to do. That’s what friends are for. I couldn’t convince him to ride his own board, but led him to believe that going tandem on my board would be better and safer. A marvelous idea indeed.
We drove up the canyon. He sat nervously in the driver’s seat, biting his fingernails and sweating profusely. It was about 11 pm, and 65 degrees. I didn’t understand the sweating.
We pulled into the parking lot to begin our trek down the canyon. Brian nervously crouched at the front of my board. He closed his eyes, and we were ready to go.
And away we went.
After about 5 minutes down the canyon road, once we were at a point that we could no longer return to the car, I realized something.
We did not have a flash light.
Or cell phones.
Could this be a recipe for disaster? Absolutely. Was Brian angry with me? You bet. Did we keep going anyway? Naturally.
We continued on our journey. Every so often Brian would wuss out and start to put his feet down, but was quickly reprimanded by yours truly. No need to suck the fun out of the ride. Often the phrase “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were female” escaped my lips.
He put his feet down again. I became frustrated with him and told him to never under any circumstance put his feet down again. I told him to let me take care of the controls. Speed and what not.
We came to a steeper area. Brian started screaming like a little girl. I could not see a dad gum thing. I also could not think clearly over his female ear busting screeching.
And then it was too late.
I quickly became aware of a dark 3 foot long 4 inch wide slithering lump in the road. It was just long enough to take up basically the whole trail. How considerate. In my mind I saw that I had two choices, 1. Bail and knock Brian off with me. Or 2. Sally up and ride over that chump like the worthless waste of space it was.
I chose the latter.
We made it safely over our obstacle. I was beaming. Ah, success. Brian turned to look at me, face pale, freckles a glow.
“What was that Bri?”
No answer.
“Brian?”
He put his feet down again. This time unrelentingly. We came to a full stop.
“SNAKE.”
And he started walking upwards on the trail. We found the hideous creature which we had managed to mangle. It had two perfect dents in its body that sandwiched it to the canyon floor. Brian reached out compassionately for it. The beast struck at his hand.
But this was only a small obstacle on our journey, and we sallied back up on our board and mushed onward down the windy canyon road.
I am led to believe that for at least a moment, Brian was enjoying the ride. The sweet smells of summer, the moonlight, the wind on his face. Everything was going perfectly.
Suddenly we lost control. We were speed wobbling like it was 1999. We were going a little too fast so that we couldn’t bail. I was trying to think quickly, but to no avail. Before I could even really think, our front right wheel went flying off into oblivion.. as did Brian.
He will never go long boarding with me again.