We had already done a trip, up to Canada fishing. Very cool.The trail was bumpy, naturally. Lots of tree roots and rocks to navigate around, or over. ... hadn't gotten the ten speed I wanted, but truth be told this old one speed bike was probably best for this. The tires were good, and it could take a TON of punishment. My scarred knees could attest to that. The woods closer to home were a bit more wide open, easy to walk or ride through path or no path. There was underbrush here, making me glad. The barriers were down – we laughed kinda knowing where this was possibly heading but unsure if either wanted the next step or not. So I took the initiative – “If you have some body creams or massage oils, I would gladly show you the benefit of massage on a sports injury” I said speculatively.“Ooooohhh”! She squealed, “Me first, Me First!. She ran off and I knew now the leg injury was a lot less than she made out. She came back with a large beach towel, several small towels and flannels, and. Mom pulls a hammer back withher thumb. He nods yes. She eases the hammer back down."Do it. And I don't have to remind you what happens if you try anythingfunny."Lipscomb slowly bends at the knees, straining to reach for the blue box,which is sitting on a coffee table where he had left it. Mom follows himdown, the shotgun never budging from his mouth. He finally reaches itwith the tips of his fingers on his left hand. He quickly scoops it upand pushes the button with his thumb. The red light. He used warm lotions and oils which could stain, and he asked if I would be okay if he removed the “draping” - in other words, the towel.I said sure real fast, not thinking anything about it. He was a CMT and does this all day long, so I wasn't embarrassed.The warm oil and his strength was amazing; he was working deep, and his hands slid over the different body parts. The incense he was burning and the massage put me in a trance and I felt as I was drifting off to the edge of sleep. I think I.