The Year Of The Dog

The roads were pretty tore up South of town, and they were wet, sticky, and gooey.

Okay....... That's It!!! I'm declaring this year the "Year Of The Dog".

Why? Well........ It is because on every single ride this year, save the Renegade Gent's Race, I have had to stop, get off my bike, and deal with dogs. Not only that, but on the last three rides in a row, I have had to deal with pairs of dogs at one time. Heck, on one ride I had two pairs of dogs. One pair each at different locations. So, this is getting weird, and there must be some kind of cosmic connection here because I've dealt with more dogs this Spring than I have in ten years combined, maybe.......pretty sure on that. 

So, yesterday I am out after it rained steadily all day and most of the night on Tuesday. This saturated the already damaged roads and even the patches of deep gravel laid down have already been pushed back into the road bed by the enormous tractors, trucks, and other gear being moved around the countryside as planting season has started in earnest. It's the worst I've ever seen it out there.

So, there I was, trying to navigate the mud pits, sticky gravel, and sand, when...... Dog barking. Not just any dog bark either, but that sonorous, deep, air moving kind of bark. I look up to see a great beast with a grey coat with black markings come bounding toward me. It was either an off colored deer, or a dog. No.......it was certainly a dog! Not just any ol' dog either, but a Great Dane.

No words necessary. Just look at that!

 I was off the bike with the bike between me and the dog, but honestly, I think this beast could have eaten me and never have touched the bike between us. He was enormous, as Great Danes are. Anyway, I spoke with him, which immediately confused him and he was looking over his shoulder for his owner to give him commands. Of course, the owner was nowhere to be found just then. The Great Dane then bounded off as soon as he came, but another deep bark of a different sort alerted me to another dog presence. Of course there was another dog. And it was a St. Bernard.

All The Big Dogs!

Now the Great Dane came back because I walked about ten paces up the road. By this time, all the commotion had alerted someone in the farm house who was calling the Great Dane. It was called off easily, and that threat was gone. But the big, furball of a St. Bernard was not going away so easily. After many demanding calls from the owner, the St. Bernard trotted away, but I noted he went behind a big tree where I couldn't see him. Perhaps he was planning an ambush? I wasn't taking any chances. After a moment, when the owner realized the dog was not coming, the commands to the dog were heard again, and this time the dog retreated all the way into the house. I re-mounted with an eye toward the rear, just in case, and pedaled away.

"Whew!", and "Dang!", and "What the .......?!!" Emotions ran high for a bit, but the surly roads demanded my full attention, so I soon forgot about the dogs. It was muddy, mucky, messy everywhere. I was fortunate not to have ripped off my rear derailleur.

This was the best road of the entire ride, but you can see why. No work has been done in the fields yet, so no heavy machinery has been down this way yet.

 This was a grey day, obviously, with a slight Northwest breeze, nothing too worrisome. The roads would have been pretty okay but for all the heavy machinery tearing it up. Some places were darn near impassable by car, and tractors and big trucks might be the only way to get through now in some spots. I have to wonder how long we will be dealing with these torn up roads. If it doesn't dry up soon I wonder if a lot of May won't be a month we are dealing with this out in the country.

Poor old Tamland got thrashed yesterday

The conditions yesterday reminded me a ton of the 2015 Dirty Kanza "Mud Fest" year. Or maybe that year at Odin's when getting to CP #1 at 47 miles took six plus hours. The gravel was that consistency where tires cut in, the gravel stuck to components, and damage occurred suddenly and violently. I had my chain jump unexpectedly a few times out there. Line choice was critical.

A little bit of that was enough. An hour and a half later I was back at the truck. Worked, but I was thinking it was better to be out riding than working.

The Year Of The Dog

The roads were pretty tore up South of town, and they were wet, sticky, and gooey.

Okay....... That's It!!! I'm declaring this year the "Year Of The Dog".

Why? Well........ It is because on every single ride this year, save the Renegade Gent's Race, I have had to stop, get off my bike, and deal with dogs. Not only that, but on the last three rides in a row, I have had to deal with pairs of dogs at one time. Heck, on one ride I had two pairs of dogs. One pair each at different locations. So, this is getting weird, and there must be some kind of cosmic connection here because I've dealt with more dogs this Spring than I have in ten years combined, maybe.......pretty sure on that. 

So, yesterday I am out after it rained steadily all day and most of the night on Tuesday. This saturated the already damaged roads and even the patches of deep gravel laid down have already been pushed back into the road bed by the enormous tractors, trucks, and other gear being moved around the countryside as planting season has started in earnest. It's the worst I've ever seen it out there.

So, there I was, trying to navigate the mud pits, sticky gravel, and sand, when...... Dog barking. Not just any dog bark either, but that sonorous, deep, air moving kind of bark. I look up to see a great beast with a grey coat with black markings come bounding toward me. It was either an off colored deer, or a dog. No.......it was certainly a dog! Not just any ol' dog either, but a Great Dane.

No words necessary. Just look at that!

 I was off the bike with the bike between me and the dog, but honestly, I think this beast could have eaten me and never have touched the bike between us. He was enormous, as Great Danes are. Anyway, I spoke with him, which immediately confused him and he was looking over his shoulder for his owner to give him commands. Of course, the owner was nowhere to be found just then. The Great Dane then bounded off as soon as he came, but another deep bark of a different sort alerted me to another dog presence. Of course there was another dog. And it was a St. Bernard.

All The Big Dogs!

Now the Great Dane came back because I walked about ten paces up the road. By this time, all the commotion had alerted someone in the farm house who was calling the Great Dane. It was called off easily, and that threat was gone. But the big, furball of a St. Bernard was not going away so easily. After many demanding calls from the owner, the St. Bernard trotted away, but I noted he went behind a big tree where I couldn't see him. Perhaps he was planning an ambush? I wasn't taking any chances. After a moment, when the owner realized the dog was not coming, the commands to the dog were heard again, and this time the dog retreated all the way into the house. I re-mounted with an eye toward the rear, just in case, and pedaled away.

"Whew!", and "Dang!", and "What the .......?!!" Emotions ran high for a bit, but the surly roads demanded my full attention, so I soon forgot about the dogs. It was muddy, mucky, messy everywhere. I was fortunate not to have ripped off my rear derailleur.

This was the best road of the entire ride, but you can see why. No work has been done in the fields yet, so no heavy machinery has been down this way yet.

 This was a grey day, obviously, with a slight Northwest breeze, nothing too worrisome. The roads would have been pretty okay but for all the heavy machinery tearing it up. Some places were darn near impassable by car, and tractors and big trucks might be the only way to get through now in some spots. I have to wonder how long we will be dealing with these torn up roads. If it doesn't dry up soon I wonder if a lot of May won't be a month we are dealing with this out in the country.

Poor old Tamland got thrashed yesterday

The conditions yesterday reminded me a ton of the 2015 Dirty Kanza "Mud Fest" year. Or maybe that year at Odin's when getting to CP #1 at 47 miles took six plus hours. The gravel was that consistency where tires cut in, the gravel stuck to components, and damage occurred suddenly and violently. I had my chain jump unexpectedly a few times out there. Line choice was critical.

A little bit of that was enough. An hour and a half later I was back at the truck. Worked, but I was thinking it was better to be out riding than working.