Monstermoon Dispatch #2: High Speed Puppy Chase

by Carson

The scene: a drizzly, quiet day in the lakeside town of Virpazar, Montenegro. The town's handful of residents are milling about, seemingly unsure what to do with themselves now that the tourist season is over. Matt and I have a little time to explore before heading to the airport, so we wander into the tourist office, which happens to occupy the largest building in “town.”

In proper Evastiano fashion: 

Carson: we have only a short time in Virpazar and want to see things. Should we go by kayak or by bike?

Lady: how long do you have? One day? Two days?

Matt: we have one hour.

Lady: (laughs) ok... you better hurry!

Deciding the river looks a little murky, we grab some bikes and head up a winding road along the water that extends into Lake Skadar National Park. Soon we are cruising past old stone farmhouses and tiny vineyards that look like test plots compared to the vast expanses of grapes we're used to in Sonoma. Roadside stands, unattended in the off-season, display bottles of "wine," "honey," and something that could be oil, vinegar, or some type of Montenegrin love potion. 

At this point, only the addition of adorable puppies could make this place any cuter.

Suddenly, two bundles of fur tumble out of a bush along the road, eager to play. They pounce and wiggle and bow their noses to the pavement, darting in periodically for a soft lick. Matt assumes his usual dog-greeting position, scratching ears and tummies and offering a few “hey sweeeeties” while I attempt to capture the cuteness on camera. After a few minutes, we continue to ride, and the pups follow--determined to stick with their adoring new friends as long as possible.

The only problem: we're on a narrow road, between two towns, with occasional traffic that most certainly does *not* yield to cute puppies. Concerned, we let them follow us into the next town, hoping they'll return to the safety of their homes and live long, healthy puppy lives. 

Realizing we're almost halfway through our precious hour of exploration, we take a quick look around the “town”--which is really just a few vine-covered houses clustered around a stone memorial--and turn back up the hill towards Virpazar. We don’t see the puppies and agree it’s for the best--we couldn’t bear the thought of them being left out on the road again. As the drizzle turns to rain, we settle into the long, slow  climb separating us from our rental car. We note how good the moisture feels on our bodies, which are now heating up from the exertion.

We glance back. The puppies have spotted us, and are racing to catch up. 

“Gooooo!!!” Matt shouts. I know we have to bike faster than they can run, so they’ll stay close to home. Fighting our deeply seeded instincts to go towards adorable puppies and not away from them, we look straight ahead, lean over our handlebars, and start pedaling as fast as we can up the hill.

The puppies accelerate behind us, thrilled by the chase. 

We shift gears, put our heads down, and pedal harder. Matt is at least a full turn ahead of me, shouting back words of encouragement as if I was competing in a high-stakes triathlon (which is frankly what it feels like at this point). We round one turn after the next, each time hoping the puppies will lose sight of us and retreat to their warm, safe home. We stand up on our pedals for an extra boost. 

I sense my physical limit, gasping for air, and slow a bit. After a while I look back--no puppies!--relieved. After recovering from a wobbly pivot, I take a few deep breaths and pedal a few more times to be sure I've lost them. Then I look back again. 

There they are, rounding the corner like furry, miniature greyhounds with tails wagging and tongues flopping out, completely undeterred by the rain or our attempts to lose them. And... they’re gaining on us! The scene is simultaneously desperate and hilarious. 

I yell an update to Matt and resolve to lose those darn puppies once and for all. Imagining myself in full view of the triathlon finish line, I take a deep breath, collect my energy, and ride like never before....

Near the top of the hill, we look back, and have never been so happy to see cute puppies retreating from our field of view. 

Lessons: 1) Montenegrin puppies are cute; and 2) the next time I enter a triathlon, the thought of saving puppies by out-biking them will definitely make me ride faster.