Two helmeted mountain-bike friends joking beside a low trail branch, one gesturing toward the tree while the other laughs, with bright green riding gear, a cloud-filled mountain sky, the matching headline and original Zombie Sport Co logo.

I’ll Put in a Complaint With the Tree

Brian Armer

“That tree has terrible manners,” Evan said when they stopped at the overlook. Rob leaned his bike against a rock and looked at the torn sleeve. A low branch had caught Evan’s forearm on the narrow stretch below them. Evan glanced down at the cut, then toward the next bend. “It’s nothing.”

“I’ll put in a complaint with the tree,” Rob said. “First, sit down.”

Evan gave him a look. They had ridden together since they were young enough to think a steep trail required no planning beyond pointing their front wheels downhill. These days, getting out took more arranging. Evan had almost missed this ride because a job ran late. Rob had waited in the parking lot, eating the breakfast he had packed for the summit.

“You’ve already waited for me once,” Evan said.

Rob sat on the flat rock beside him. “Then I’m getting very good at it.”

Below them, the trees moved in the breeze. Evan stopped watching the trail long enough to attend to his arm. Rob stayed where he was, offering a hand when needed and otherwise giving him room. There was no lecture. Evan had been braced for one.

“You can say it,” he told Rob.

“Say what?”

“Watch where you’re going.”

“I was behind you. I’m hardly in a position to brag.” Rob lifted his sleeve. There was a long smear of bark dust where the same branch had caught the fabric. Evan laughed. “So you want to join the complaint?”

“I’d like compensation for my breakfast.”

They stayed at the overlook while Evan finished tending the cut. When he stood, Rob reached for his own bike. Evan checked the map on his phone, then turned it so they could both see. The shorter route would take them back past the creek.

“Fancy that one?” he asked.

Rob nodded. “We can still stop for food.”

“You’ve already eaten.”

“That was the waiting fee.”

Evan slipped the phone away. At the narrow stretch, he stopped and held the branch clear while Rob walked his bike past. “I thought you were reporting it,” Rob said.

“I am,” Evan replied. “No sense letting it get you twice.”

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