Roadkill possum: the adventure continues...

So I have this massive possum lashed to my bike rack and I'm probably fifteen miles from home, as a crow flies...what do you do in those situations? Do you ride all the way home in the baking heat, hoping you can ride fast enough so the possum doesn't spoil? Heck no! You disguise the possum as a "bundle" and sneak it onto public transit right? Of course you do! It actually isn't hard to make a possum inconspicious...all it takes is a hoodie, a few plastic bags and you are all set..

I quickly learned that people generally don't want to see a girl riding a bike with a big old possum lashed to the bike rack...not here in crazy vegan-central Portland...I hardly went more then a block just pedaling with the possum behind me when another biker pulled up behind me yelling "OHHHHHHH MY! NO WAY!"

I gave him my best trickerster/sweet girl smile and said "hi!"

"WHO ARE YOU?!" He yelled as though I was from another planet...I wanted to say something really smart-ass, but nothing came to mind.

"Um...Kim Henderson?"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I'm gonna eat it....in a stew.." I smiled sweetly. "That's what we do where I'm from in Upstate New York..." (This is somewhat true...my folks had butchered roadkill deer a few times on the kitchen table..)

"IS THAT LIKE IN THE APPLIACIAN MOUNTAINS?" The dude is still yelling and staring at me like his eyes are going to explore.

"Yep..." (I don't want to argue geography at the moment, I've got a possum to get home.)

"ARE YOU GONNA GET SICK?"

"Nope...it's pretty fresh...it has fleas on it still.." (I'm hoping at this point that I'm right about this, I don't want to give misleading information.) "Well I gotta get this thing home.."

"Well God bless you Kim Henderson...."

"God bless you too.." I yell cheerfully as I pedal away fast. This dude has made me realize I really need to cover this possum up good before boarding the MAX (light rail train.) I stop and cover the possum with my hoodie, but you can see the shape of the body pretty well still, and I don't want people to think the worst and assume I've got a dead baby or something equally disturbing on my bike rack..I know that most people aren't very observant, but something tells me they'll notice the blood seeping through the hoodie. I decide to make it look as much like a home-bum bundle as possible, so I start picking up random plastic bags and wrapping them around the possum-hoodie bundle too. My heart is beating hard by the time I board the MAX...I'm so sure that someone is going to yell "Holy fuck...theres a FOOT sticking out of that bag..." I feel so paranoid I can't stop staring at my bundle, but of course, nobody notices. People are too busy looking at each other and assessing the hot summer trends to notice a sweaty bike-chick with an odd bundle on her bike rack...nevertheless, when the over-tanned lady with the leathery skin starts whispering to the man sitting next to her, I assume they are whispering about me. But then the lady starts yelling about "those bitches..." and I realize she's talking about something totally unrelated.

So the MAX ride is a success...now I just have four more miles before I'm home-free and I can just relax and gut and skin my possum..

I try to ride my bike again, but the possum has weighted down my bike rack and it is dragging on the back tire, making it difficult to ride. So after a few blocks, I stop and chain up my bike and unlash the possum, being careful not to expose him to the yuppies who are strolling by, and gather him into my arms, like a baby. His dead-weight lays in my arms just like a sleeping baby, and I think "if I just had one of those baby sling things, nobody would know the difference..." As it is, I have to keep stopping and rearranging the possum to be sure the tail and/or any of the feet don't come out of the bundle...god forbid any of the pretty yuppie women working their little gardens see a girl carrying a bundle with a possum tail sticking out...it might ruin their day or something...

I'm pretty sure a little girl on a bike caught a glimpse of the possum at one point when I was shifting my bundle...the curiousity in her eyes was unmistakeable. Kids at four or five (which I'm guessing was her age,) are mostly curious, so she probably won't have night-terrors involving giant possums...but you never know.

Finally, I made it to Going Street...I debated briefly between heading home with the thing, or going to Theressa and Norris and Wood's house, where I guessed I'd get more advice and possibly help with the skinning and gutting. I decided my veggie-roommates might not appreciate possum-skinning as much as my favorite neiborhood rewilders, so I headed over there...

TO BE CONTINUED...THE SAGA OF THE POSSUM GOES ON...

Love ya,
Carrot