I just paid Jamie the commesurate $10.00 to renew the domain name, so it looks like this damn thing will be sticking around a fair bit longer. Hope you’re happy. If you’re not, then why are you reading this in the first place anyway?
Where to begin? It’s been a crazy past few weeks. I guess it all started on April 16. Perhaps you already heard the story. Well, if not, here’s the abridged version:
The day was April 16. I was in a wedding the day before, and between work and getting ready for the actual wedding, I had almost no time to ride that week. So when the day after the wedding came, I thought to myself, “OK, I just want to ride all day…” I left in the afternoon, and just started pedaling. I had no plans of where or what I wanted to ride, just that I wanted to get outside and pedal, and so that’s what I did.
About four miles from home, I was coming down a fairly big hill and cut through a parking lot of an office building when I heard a noise behind me, as if something were in pursuit of me. Before I could realize what happened, a Canadian Goose was flying directly behind me, pecking at my back and neck. I attempted to elbow it away from me while still riding with it virtually on my back, hit a rock in the road, jack knifed over the bars and landed squarely on my knee and hand. When I stood up, the goose was opposite me, attempting to come at me yet again. Without thinking, I quickly grabbed my bike and threw it at the goose in a tailwhip motion. It relented for a moment, but came back again. I punched the thing in the head, it made a wild noise and then flew away.
The whole incident took maybe 30 seconds, and I was too hopped up on adrenalin to realize the damage that had been done to my knee and hand from hitting the pavement at such a harsh speed. I remember thinking to myself, “Did that just fu*king happen?” over and over in my head as I limped away, bike in hand, away from the nearby attacker.
When I got about a 1/4 mile away, I looked back and noticed that the goose was now tending to his nesting female companion, which sat maybe 10 feet away from our altercation. Unbeknownst to myself, I had ridden onto the breeding ground for the geese, and as nature would have it, it was the male’s duty to protect that area from anything threatening that entered. Then the pain started sitting in.
I had ripped a deep hole in my knee. Blood was everywhere and all I could really see was the inside flesh from my knee. I pedaled back home, still shocked over the altercation, drove to a pharmacy to get gauze, and called a few friends to relay the story on.
In the week that followed, my knee swelled up, froze up and generally made life miserable. All I had wanted to do was ride my bike, but following the incident, I could barely walk for three days.
The goose incident, as it’s come to be known, spawned quite a bit of unrest within myself. I got mad at myself for riding my bike and unknowingly making myself so vulnerable to goose attacks. And then my family members scorned me for still riding that bike and making myself so vulnerable to goose attacks (among other things). For a few days, I wasn’t too sure about having the bike in my life anymore. It seemed like it was the source of every uneasy emotion within myself and the people around me. Everything can be traced back to me being foolish and still riding bikes, even freak occurrences like canadian goose attacks.
But then my knee healed up and I went on an amazing trip to ride, and I decided once again that I can’t walk away from this bike thing just yet. It’s interplays into almost every fucked up story I’ve experienced so far in life, and I’m still curious as to where it will one day take me…