I hope this blog finds you doing well. It leaves my brain doing well. It is a bit windy; which is a pain in the butt while bike riding, but nothing that can't be overcome with persistence and an easier gear. I never know. Is the proper term a higher or lower gear? Feel free to let me know. I don’t want to look dumb at the national conference of geeks in biking shorts.
For those of you who have been following "You Said What? Roger" the past three weeks, this week is the payoff. The previous two weeks have been the set up for this week's blog. Do you feel like you're in church? We have been having a three week sermon series on bike riding. I apologize to the church phobic in my audience for not explaining my nefarious plans before hand. You're here now though so you might as well go sit down in the front row.
Over the past two weeks, I have written about remembering a ride 40 years earlier and the benefits of night riding. Today I bring you the finale. We live in the country. As mentioned previously, the Sharritt farmstead is comprised of the Fall Creek valley. As such, the northern edge of our farm is a deer highway. Year around the deer are on the move. In fact the first four rows of the neighbor's corn field have been decimated by the deer as they move through. During hunting season, herds of 30 to 40 deer will dot the harvested cornfields of the Pendleton Correctional Facility to the East of our farm. They congregate there because the shooting stops as they cross the road that separates our farm from the Reformatory and enter the no hunting zone. It appears that the governor doesn't appreciate armed hunters roaming across his fields.
With this population density, I figure that is just a matter of time before I commit vehicular deer slaughter. I have been driving 33 years, and it hasn't happened yet. So rather than having one mishap in 64 years, I figure that I will have this unsightly encounter sometime during the next 31 years.
Armed with this statistical knowledge, one evening last summer as I was coming out of a wooded area on my ride a deer burst out of a bean field onto the road about 20 yards in front of me while I am coming off the steepest hill on my ride at a brisk 28 mph pace. It scampered on off across the road with no harm being done.
There you have it; a completely benign encounter with nature. Or was it? What if that deer was an advance scout for a group of assassin deer. What would happen if after years and years of being on the losing end of car deer encounters, the deer have figured out that while they may be a little bit bruised they would win a bike-antler encounter. Just to be clear, by win, I mean bike rider ends up in the hospital having antler wounds sewn shut at best and at worst the surviving family unit is responsible for maintaining a road side memorial with little white cross and a replacement stuffed Bullwinkle every six months as a grim reminder that all is not safe in the country.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks as I pondered the possibilities, I decided that this scenario was completely possible. Not the assassin deer part but the deer getting to my point in the road at my point in time that is totally possible. As a self-described control freak, totally possible passed from possible to likely, through highly likely, to just a matter of time.
Then during a ride in late August, I witnessed a nice 8 point buck stalking me from the middle of another bean field on down the road. He was giving me the stink eye as I labored North at about the halfway point of the ride. I could tell by his demeanor that things had changed. The deer had organized and targeted little ole me as one of their first victims.
I shared these concerns with all of my family. I just wanted them to know how to alert the police in case I experience an untimely demise while on a bike ride. Did I garner support from my loved ones? No; I was ridiculed by my loved ones. "There is no way that will ever happen." "Why do you go to hyperbole in every situation." "Drama; get over it. It is just a bike ride." I was ridiculed at every turn by those I trust and love and lean on for support during these trying times.
Left to my own devices, I have had to constantly change my routine. Even as I changed tactics, I could see the signs of the deer as they used new and more exotic weaponry. Dropping walnuts from trees in hopes of causing disorientation so they could attack after hitting me in the head; that diabolical plan didn't work out because I was wearing a helmet. Then they tried to debike me by dropping hedge apples on my head. Hedge apples for those of you who do combat with deer from the comfort of your 2500 lb automobiles are those green brainy things that country folk sell to city folk with outrageous claims of spider repelling properties. While formidable, I managed to stay astride in spite of several near misses.
Now I hear rumors that they have a new plan during my night rides. According to my spies, the deer will use a decoy that will stand next to the road and feign an attack just in my peripheral vision which will cause me to jerk my handlebars to the right to gain distance between me and my attackers. As I swerve to the middle of the road, a buck will be standing there with his antlers down allowing me to do all the work as I skewer myself.
I hope that you take note because this is not hyperbole. I have evidence. This past week my sister-in-law posted the following video on my facebook page. I warn you it is not for the weak of heart.
See. I told you so. And you gun control fans say hunters have no need for assault rifles. A handlebar mounted AK-47 and we're having bambi stew tonight kids.
Take care
Especially out there in the woods.
Roger
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