Years ago, I was haulin’ ass downhill on a rural highway in New Mexico when a squirrel ran out of the ditch and right in front of my mountain bike wheel. I grabbed a fistful of brake and missed the squirrel, but I nearly lost control and turned myself into a road apple. I scolded myself all the way back to my house for not just running over the damned thing. I figured it would have been safer.
Then I saw this series of photos this week over at Gwadzilla’s blog. Whatever happened here must have been painful—and not just for the squirrel. Hell, it looks like his lights went out quickly. But breaking a fork on a squirrel? Damn.
I once had a panicked sparrow nearly fly into my front wheel at high speed, and since then I've always thought that would be the blood-and-feathers equivalent of shit hittin’ the fan.
After that little episode, I decided it might be best to avoid yelling, “Oh, Craaaap” as you watch a Kamikaze Cuckoo throw itself at your spinning spokes.
Because “Craaaap” is a really long word.
And at a time like that, you should probably have your mouth closed, if you know what I mean.
As long as I’m on the subject of blood, birds and involuntary impulses to yell, “Craaaap!” this might be a good time to mention that this Saturday is the Big Event at the Goose. And this ain’t just any race, it’s the gosh dang “Stud Slutz Cham pee in shipz” as Carlos is billing it.
Show up at Goose Lake between 6 and 6:45 p.m. with ten bucks, and be ready to race at 7 o’clock. Yeah, that’s after dark, so light 'em up. I plan to be stylin’ with some sweet new gear that would have scored serious points with babes during the disco era.
If you’ve been meaning to try one of these races but haven’t, get off yer butt. This is probably your last chance for the season.
Besides, if you're the kind of person who will read an entire blog post about killing small critters with bike parts, you belong at this race.
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