Bats and bicycle seats

In Michigan there is a quaint island called Mackinac Island (an old Indian name meaning "yes, we know it has a c in it, but no, we don't want to pronounce the c"), which we visited on our recent trip. Mackinac is unique in that its fudge shops outnumber permanent residents. There is a direct correlation between this phenomenon and the fact that there are no cars on the island, although there is a misconception that the lack of cars is due to a wish to keep the island quaint and pristine. The actual reason island officials have outlawed motorized vehicles is to prevent the abundance of fudge from sticking to people's bodies and turning the island into a fat farm. So you can consume as much fudge as you want, but you must walk it off, or rent -- for an exorbitant price -- a bicycle to get around. There are plenty of horses available, too, but depending on the amount of fudge you indulge in, the horse might just decide to dump you in the middle of the island and hoof it back home without you. Don't think it wouldn't. These horses have been hauling overfudged tourists for more than a century, and any day now they could decide they've had enough.

As our excursions were going to take us all over the island, we procured bikes. After grueling pedaling over flat asphalt for 500 feet, I was ready for a break. I persuaded the rest of my fellow bikers to hike a nature trail through the woods. There was some resistance to this plan, as the "trail" looked shorter than walking to get your mail, but I held firm. My bottom needed a rest. But more on that later.

The nature walk included, absolutely free, a variety of signs telling us what was there that we couldn't see ("and here resides the red-tufted moppish, a very rare species seen only for one hour on November 31 of a leap year"). One sign extolled the virtues of bats, which I was more than happy not to actually see, and declared that bats are "historically one of the most misunderstood and persecuted of all creatures" (along with women, I thought the sign might have added).

Now, I cannot argue with the assertion that bats are misunderstood. I myself don't understand them at all, including why the Lord would take the time to create such an ugly creature. However, I take great exception to the claim that bats are "persecuted." I, personally -- even though I shudder at the very thought of bats -- have never persecuted, molested, or even annoyed a bat. No one I claim an acquaintance with has ever persecuted a bat. I informally surveyed other hikers -- including three squirrels -- on our short hike, and not one admitted to ever persecuting a member of the bat family. (It's true that most of those surveyed, the squirrels included, said that should they ever happen to encounter a bat and a broom at the same time, they would not hesitate to use one against the other. So maybe this lends a little validity to the persecution claim.)

I'll tell you who is getting persecuted, though. It's people who, having been denied the comforts of their air-conditioned automobile on the island, are forced to balance their body on a bicycle seat the size of a pea. These seats are not shaped or sized like any posterior known to man, or woman for that matter. Only about 1/8 of your bottom fits onto the seat at any given time, so that you spend the entire ride shifting this way and that in an attempt to give all parts equal support. When it becomes unbearable to remain on the seat, and your fellow bikers refuse to stop at any more nature trails and read about bats, in desperation you lift off the seat entirely and ride vertical, weaving the bike in and out of people, small children, bats, etc., because you cannot control it as well as when you are sitting. And thus you continue on your torturous ride around the island, approximately 2,179.4 miles, until you collapse and have to be taken by horse-drawn ambulance to the medical center, where they take skin grafts from various parts of your body and sew them to your raw behind.

At this point, you wouldn't even care if a whole flock of bats descended on you and started biting you on the face. Just as long as they left your bottom alone.