trees and bushes to get it so deep off the road with no trail around. We pushed and shoved the motorcycle out of the bush and up a steep embankment. We didn’t have cell coverage, so we just decided to pull the bike out and call the cops once we reached an area with reception. We put the motorcycle in the back of my truck.
We stopped and cleaned our birds and made our way home. I got home and called the police and made the report. They arranged to have the bike picked up and ran the serial number.
If it wasn’t for that grouse flushing into the bush and giving us a chance to chase it for a second flush, that motorcycle would probably still be sitting in the bush. It was an obscure place and totally random we stumbled across it.
I’m glad we did because the bike mattered to someone who missed it big time. I exchanged information, through the police, with the owner. A man, a father, soon called me. The bike belonged to his son. It was quite a story.
The motorcycle belonged to a 15-year-old kid who had worked several jobs after school and during summers to save up and buy the bike. Due to modifications, the motorcycle was not insured. It had been stored at a garage in southern Ontario near Orillia. It was stolen in the spring time with no trace. It crushed the kid to say the least. Loss, especially something that actually means something to you, hurts. It hurts bad and doesn’t go away quick. The kid did cartwheels and screamed in joy about the news his motorcycle had been found and not damaged with the exception of a gouge in the seat. The bike started and still worked. The family couldn’t be happier.
I didn’t take any reward. Both James and I were just pleased a kid, who worked his butt off to buy his own bike, got it back after having it stolen.
Knowing how happy the kid was made everything grand.
It was an interesting combination of factors and timing – as well as complete randomness- for this to happen. I think it was kind of awesome.
It made a hunting outing a truly unique experience and one to remember.