Shamu is a toothed-whale. Although generally smaller than baleen whales, toothed whales are hunters. They find, chase and capture their prey. A salesman must hunt. Baleen whales belong in marketing.
I take aim, position my scope, ready to fire.
I hesitate. The bear looks content.
I put the rifle back inside the bag.
“Let’s go home, Hector.”
Snowcones are for the weak.
#BartTime
As Hector commences takeoff, I catch something out of the corner of my eye.
It’s the bear. Perched atop the peak of the mountain, licking a strawberry snowcone.
I reach into my knapsack and carefully draw my Barret M107 .50 caliber semi-auto sniper rifle and attach its scope.
8700’
As the sun sets, snow falls atop the icy peak. Windchill drops the temperature to 6°. Picked a bad day to wear loafers.
8900’
I think Delroy and the Cabana Club crew were joking about the snowcone man. I call my pilot, Hector to pick me up. He greets me with a hot negroni.
6850’
I happen upon a tribe of natives. Their currency happens to be pooka shells. I trade my necklace for a wife and 2 goats.
6855’
My new wife begins to nag. Oh no, looks like she “tripped” off the side of the cliff.
5500’
The bear struggles to keep up. He’s debilitated. Perfect chance to finish him off.
I hop off my Clydesdale, corner the bear on the edge of the cliff, and deliver a swift roundhouse kick to its face, knocking it off the cliff where it disappears into the stratus clouds.
4000’
I run out of rations. Luckily, I instructed Mateo to bring my Clydesdale around the back of the peak and trot up to base camp.
Unluckily, he forgot the saddle. I picked the wrong day to freeball.
1800’
We encounter our first obstacle. A stray grizzly bear make its way through the brush.
Native to the Dominican?
No. But there nonetheless.
He was yearning for that snowcone. He knew I was too.
I wasn’t going to allow some meek bear to beat me there.
I increase my pace.
A Dominican parable attests there is a snowcone man at the top of the mountain.
But, here’s the catch: the snowcone man only offers one snowcone per diem. I had to move fast.
None of your business.
Pico Duarte - loosely translates to dirty salsa.
This is how your stomach feels when you reach peak gradient.
Supposedly. I was about to find out.