Reach for the Sky

“Travis! Dude, we can’t find Scottie!” Someone was pounding on Travis’s bedroom door as I shifted groggily in his arms. Achilles had stiffened at the first knock and began barking in his deep, intimidating protector voice as Travis rushed to toss the covers over my naked torso as the door popped open.

“Aw, shit. Nevermind, guys, she’s in with Travis.” I sighed. Fabulous.

“Close the door, jackass!” Travis threw something that looked like an empty can of Red Bull at Andy (it had been he who was brave enough to knock on Travis’s usually open door at seven-thirty in the morning), who dodged the can and pulled the door shut before him. Immediately, Travis launched himself out of the bed, tossing me the basketball shorts and a t-shirt from the floor.

“Damn it, Damn it, Damn it,” I trailed off and pulled the shirt over my head and the shorts up my legs as I hopped out of the bed. I kissed Travis’s cheek as I passed him, promising him a better display of affection after I brushed my teeth. Achilles and I rushed back to the room I shared with Jolene, and pushed through the door only to immediately walk back out into the hallway when I saw a naked Oakley slipping back into his boxer shorts.

“Holy shit. Today is the morning from hell,” I spoke to the dog, who barked in agreement. “God Oakley, are you decent yet?” He shot me an angry glance as I walked in and began rummaging around in my room for my clothes for the day.

“I hear you slept with Pastrana,”

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” I shot at him through a layer of toothpaste, before I moved in the bathroom Jo and I shared to rinse my mouth out and wash my face. “Get out, I need to get dressed.” Oakley glared as if he was going to say something, but proceeded from the room. I glanced at Jolene before I stripped down and began to prepare for the day, gingerly slipping into my underwear before she attacked my back with a tissue covered in Neosporin.

“Stop moving, Scottie. Seriously.” I did as I was told, and flinched as she covered the worst of the cuts with band-aids. “That could get so infected. I can’t believe they’re still open like that.”

“Yeah, well. I haven’t exactly stopped since I got them.”

“Good point.” She allowed me to finish dressing, and she did the same in silence. “You’re not mad at me, right?” I sighed as I buckled the belt around the waist of my black skinny jeans - or were they Jolene’s? I could never tell, we shared clothes too often to care any more.

“No Jo, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be?” I tossed my toothbrush and deodorant on top of my suitcase and zipped it up, patting Achilles gently between the ears. I could read her glare, which plainly said something to the effect of “I just slept with your best friend, dipshit.”

“I don’t think he’s my ‘best friend’ so much any more.” Jo’s eyebrows knitted together briefly, so I explained as I packed my carry-on backpack. “Oakley hasn’t been too happy with my career choices recently.” I closed the bag and shook it once to help everything settle as I plucked my iPod off the night stand to place it in an outside zipper compartment with my passport and cell phone before I set the thing on my back and picked my luggage bag up by its handle. “Really, Jo, it’s okay.” Bag and dog in tow, I walked out to load my stuff in one of the waiting trucks. One had my dirt bike and quad loaded into the bed, the other held Travis’s bike and all of the luggage. My gear bag lay in front of the gnarly-looking motocross quad, and was joined by the rolling piece of luggage I had brought.

“Hey Sweet Cheeks.”

“Hi Gimpy,” I held my arms out for Travis, who buried himself in them.

“You look like you’re headed to your first day of Kindergarten,” He joked, kissing my cheek before he allowed our lips to meet.

“Shut up.” I managed, as he smothered me into his chest.

“Oh look, the love birds have made it a month!” Achilles greeted Robert Pastrana as happily as he would have greeted me if I had gone on a year-long sabbatical to some faraway location without him. Travis’s dad really had a way with the enormous black Newfoundland mix.

“Hey Mr. Pastrana,” He also had a knack at walking in on the pair of us at the most awkward of moments.

“Give an old man a hug, girl.” I laughed, and left Travis’s arms to hug his dad.

“You going to take good care of my dog?”

“You going to beat my son at X-Fighters?” Travis slapped my shoulder.

“It’s a possibility. She did carry me on her back through the Carpathian Mountains,” I shot the boy a look which I hoped clearly said he should find some shit, stick it in his mouth and chew as Travis and his dad laughed together.

“Alright Achilles, time to go to Uncle Robert’s house,” I held the dog to my chest for a moment before he and Pastrana got into Robert’s truck, and Travis took me back in his arms.

“You ready for this?” He asked, as the guys and Jolene rushed around us, trying to get ready at the last minute as usual.

“Of course I am.” I reached up to press my lips gently to his for a moment, before someone started honking a truck horn at us.

“We’re leaving! Get in, ladies!” Travis and I had to run with heavy backpacks to catch up with the moving vehicle.

As usual, I managed to sleep through the entire plane ride to Madrid, Spain, and didn’t wake up until Travis and Jolene were shaking me, telling me we had landed. Which was when the problems began. We couldn’t get rental trucks, only mini-vans; so we had to load a race quad and all of the luggage into two mini-vans (which required me to take the handlebars off the bike and deflate the front tires, it was horrible!) and Travis and I had to follow Cam McQueen - the crazy Canadian Redneck driver/mechanic - to the hotel on our race bikes.

“So Scottie, you just loaded your ATV into a mini van like a true redneck. How do you feel?” Godfrey asked, camera in hand as I pulled my helmet on.

“Violated and repulsed.” I said flatly, and kicked the dirt bike into life. “You should just take my quad FMX title away now.”

“She’s just bitter.” Travis called from behind me, as we all pulled out of the airport. Cam turned up the volume of the music in MV1 (the first mini van’s “code name” according to Andy Bell) so Travis and I could hear it through the streets of Madrid as we followed to the hotel. I pulled a wheelie into the valet area, while Travis stoppied to a halt between me and the minivans.

“That was a hell of a ride! Did you see how I almost hit those two Smart Cars!”

“They were definitely out to get us, man, one tried to run me over in a round-about!” I answered, and gave my boy a high-five. “Get me to the pool, it’s so hot!”

Half an hour and a fight with the concierge people about where to put two dirt bikes and a quad with no handlebars and a pair of flat tires later, I finally got my wish - laying poolside in a bikini (which flaunted every single hard-earned injury I had attained over the past month), with Travis’s hand in one hand and a virgin Piña Colada in the other. I was a happy camper.

Until the boys began tossing things into the pool, things which included me (but not the Colada, thank god). Jolene had somehow managed to pipe her iPod through the pools speakers - probably because the only people at the hotel were the competitors at the X-Fighters, and none cared about loud music. Her mix was strange, but likeable; Disciple followed by Danzig, followed by Hot Action Cop and Turbonegro, it was definitely something she used while racing. It was during this sequence that the chaos began, and at first Jo and I were spared, sipping our drinks in peace just outside of the splash zone. Suddenly, we were ambushed, and Andy slung Jolene over his shoulder, and Travis attempted to do the same with me.

“Don’t you dare, Pastrana! Don’t think I won’t hurt you!” He stopped for a moment, with me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, but tossed me through the air anyway. I grabbed him by the hair as my arm flailed past his head and pulled him in with me. At which point he tried to drown me by sitting on me at the bottom of the pool for so long I started to wonder if had gills instead of lungs, and if I would live to see the competition.

Backflips from the top of a well-sculpted tropical rock face ensued, and by the time the Metal Mulisha arrived, we had located a water slide. Gotta hand it to Red Bull - they definitely knew how to keep crazy FMX riders busy.

The sun had started to set as I shot out the bottom of the slide and accomplished a flip - front or back, I had no idea - before I hit the water.

“Best skim of the evening! Scottie wins the ten bucks!” Travis pulled me out of the water by my good arm amid laughter and cheers.

“Hey, Pastrana!”

“Brian Deegan, I thought you were dead!” As Travis and an overly-tattooed, black haired man greeted one another, I recognized one of the few other riders Monster Energy Drinks supported - Jeremy Stenberg.

“Oh man, Twitch, last time I talked to Monster they said you were in jail!” I bounced over to hug the skinny, tattooed wonder.

“And they told me you were still riding four-wheelers, what’re you doing here girl?” He gave me a lazy, one-armed hug.

“She’s here to kick your ass!” Travis piped, and I punched him in the shoulder.

“I’m the token girl this year.”

“Man you look like hell, why would they pick you?” I laughed in agreement.

“I’ve been hanging around with this kid too much. Travis, meet Jeremy Steinberg. Twitch, Travis Pastrana.” Travis shook Twich’s lazy hand vigorously.