Ground Hog: (n) a herbivore mammal who ranges from 17.75 to 24 inches in length with a tail of 7 to 9.75 inches. Generally weighs around 13 pounds.
Riddle: Why did the ground hog cross the road? Answer: To take the bicyclist out.
While on a wonderfully, hot day during a flat, what should have been 30 mile ride, I had a close encounter of the very personnel kind with one of these wonderfully, cute animals. However, the results were not so cute. As the roly-poly hog "dashed" into my bicycle path; stopping to gaze at the panic look on my face, he realized he was about to get hit by a bicycle. Never having encountered such before the hog continued on his way to the other side, but too late to save me from entering the ravine from which he just emerged. Let me clarify, reacting upon my momentary thought of contemplating whether it was better to little the big guy or hit the ditch, I attempt to swerve right while he dashed left only to discover that the ravine was much deeper than it appears. Head over heels, which isn't easy when one is clipped into their peddles with wonderfully stiff Speedplay clips, I landed with a thump and yell. I didn't know I could scream. Upon coming to my senses I realized I had a bloody nose that was still red at a faster rate than our government, and a throbbing ankle that couldn't move. Broke or not broke was the first question - lets see, the ankle? not so sure; the nose? definitely not; the left shoulder; no, hurts too much and I can move it. Ok - inventory over - now how do I get home. Just at that thought a car pulled along side the road and as the driver emerged it was clear she was calling 911. Ok - I guess I don't need to worry about getting home from here, but now, how will I get home from the hospital. In minutes a police officer roared to the side of the road, sliding to a stop, emerging before his car was in park. Suddenly, upon seeing me lying in the ditch, left leg resting on my bicycle with my ankle higher than the corn stalks in the field behind me, he burst out laughing. My pride was already hurting more than my ankle. I remarked, sir, I am not finding this as humorous as you. He stopped and barked into his radio. "Back off guys, it is just a bicyclist in the ditch". I can't say that made me feel much better. However, he quickly attended to me to explain that the dispatcher interpreted "biker hurt" as a "motorcyclists injured". He explain he was laughing at the interp
retation, not my dilemma. Ok, it was humorous to me now too. The EMS arrived and carted me off, on what was a much faster end to my 30 mile trip (I was 21 miles into it) than I was hoping. My bicycle was carted off to the police station where I retrieved it later after learning that the ankle was fractured, but I was fine otherwise. I would prefer my next encounter with a ground hog to be on Discovery Channel or National Geographic Channel.
Riddle: Why did the ground hog cross the road? Answer: To take the bicyclist out.
While on a wonderfully, hot day during a flat, what should have been 30 mile ride, I had a close encounter of the very personnel kind with one of these wonderfully, cute animals. However, the results were not so cute. As the roly-poly hog "dashed" into my bicycle path; stopping to gaze at the panic look on my face, he realized he was about to get hit by a bicycle. Never having encountered such before the hog continued on his way to the other side, but too late to save me from entering the ravine from which he just emerged. Let me clarify, reacting upon my momentary thought of contemplating whether it was better to little the big guy or hit the ditch, I attempt to swerve right while he dashed left only to discover that the ravine was much deeper than it appears. Head over heels, which isn't easy when one is clipped into their peddles with wonderfully stiff Speedplay clips, I landed with a thump and yell. I didn't know I could scream. Upon coming to my senses I realized I had a bloody nose that was still red at a faster rate than our government, and a throbbing ankle that couldn't move. Broke or not broke was the first question - lets see, the ankle? not so sure; the nose? definitely not; the left shoulder; no, hurts too much and I can move it. Ok - inventory over - now how do I get home. Just at that thought a car pulled along side the road and as the driver emerged it was clear she was calling 911. Ok - I guess I don't need to worry about getting home from here, but now, how will I get home from the hospital. In minutes a police officer roared to the side of the road, sliding to a stop, emerging before his car was in park. Suddenly, upon seeing me lying in the ditch, left leg resting on my bicycle with my ankle higher than the corn stalks in the field behind me, he burst out laughing. My pride was already hurting more than my ankle. I remarked, sir, I am not finding this as humorous as you. He stopped and barked into his radio. "Back off guys, it is just a bicyclist in the ditch". I can't say that made me feel much better. However, he quickly attended to me to explain that the dispatcher interpreted "biker hurt" as a "motorcyclists injured". He explain he was laughing at the interp
retation, not my dilemma. Ok, it was humorous to me now too. The EMS arrived and carted me off, on what was a much faster end to my 30 mile trip (I was 21 miles into it) than I was hoping. My bicycle was carted off to the police station where I retrieved it later after learning that the ankle was fractured, but I was fine otherwise. I would prefer my next encounter with a ground hog to be on Discovery Channel or National Geographic Channel.
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