After two and a half weeks, time has finally dulled the sharp edges of the memories of the incident for me to write about the trauma…
Though the weather forecast was marginal, I decided to take the fast bike (a.k.a the Pretty Bike, a.k.a. the Italian Bike) to work in hopes of extending the ride home one more time before the vacation. By the end of the work day, everything was perfect for a fast ride home.
The sun was out, there was a strong tail-wind, memories of the previous day’s Tour de France coverage were fresh in mind… a perfect time to pretend to be a pro racer!
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Meanwhile, somewhere in the quiet city of Saskatoon, a woman (we’ll call her Stella) decides to go for a drive with her best friend Charlie…
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After navigating rough roads, bad traffic & detours, I finally got to a quite residential street where I could crank up the effort a bit. Thanks to a strengthening wind at my back I was able to pick up the pace to about 35-40km/h, settling into a beautiful rhythm… //////scritch (sound of needle scratching across an LP)
Some days, for reasons unknown, middle-aged men are not meant to dream of racing glory for more than a moment or two.
My focus was suddenly broken by a shout from over my left shoulder…. “something something something DOG!”
I immediately looked over my shoulder to see who was yelling. Nobody was in sight so I returned my attention to the road ahead.
Charlie had jumped out of the window & somehow managed to maneuver his short legs to propel himself directly under my front wheel! There was NO time to react.
What followed looked something like this:
…only without the water to ease the sliding down the pavement & the removal of skin. (& without the pony tail & with harrier legs & generally less elegant looking)
Charlie who looked something like this:
… did a little scuttle & took off down the road, running faster than I would have ever imagined a weiner-dog could run, first to one side of the road, then the other, then back again. He finally hid somewhere in one of the yards nearby.
Man those dogs are solid!
I quickly got up & checked the bike over. The only damage was some scratches on the brake lever & torn bar tape… phew!
Stella came running, repeating “are you OK, are you OK… I can’t believe it! He never tries to jump out the window!”
After assuring Stella that I was OK & asking about her dog, I rode off finally scanning myself for damage after a few blocks. The new Horizon 100 jersey Char & the kids gave me for my birthday was shredded at the sholder :-(, pretty impressive road rash on my knee & shin, hip, arm & shoulder. Thankfully no broken bones & just minor brusing… scrubbing out the dirt & grit & dealing with bandages taped to hairy legs was the worst part (mental note: shave before taping). (no, I’m still not ready to shave my legs like “real cyclists” to avoid this).
I still twitch & get shivers up my spine when I see dogs off-leash within a kilometer or so of cyclists.
So please, please, please…. if you’re out driving with your dachshund, keep the windows closed!