Enjoy the Ride

Enjoy the Ride

What is that old saying about the mail man’s plight…something about the wind and the rain and the sleet and the snow? I reckon the mail men are no different than us riders…although busting our bottoms, butting up with the wind and the rain and the poisonous leveled pollen is a pleasure, not a duty. How many times do you think the mail man has stopped to smell the roses? Probably more times than we have! The pleasure of the “pedal” is in the beauty of the beholder.

Just another typical ride pedaling down the Interurban Trail to catch up with the club on another typical evening’s ride. I pass one dog walker who proudly parades two large identical looking dogs; they’re headed to their same ol’ spot…my backyard. The grass isn’t so green there anymore. Nonetheless; the dog walker twists and turns amongst the leashes like he was a May pole in the making. He diligently wears two plastic Piggly Wiggly bags; his surrogate colostomies…ah, what man won’t do for his best friend.

A little further down the trail a mother is roller-blading; pushing one of those Cadillac caddies they call a stroller. In my day they were a simple umbrella-like vehicle that weighed less than the baby. I’m taken back by the little buckaroo buried inside this apparatus. This apparatus that I’m most certain is equipped with dual airbags and Onstar satellite guidance. The child is dressed like a miniature Batman, staring straight ahead, focused as if in high pursuit of saving the world…or at least Cedarburg from some villain about to do some villainous deed. He briefly turns his head to me and raises his deadly laser gun and points it at my steel (OK, it’s carbon) steed. I holler out “Buddy, please don’t shoot my horse,” and his mother laughs…but Baby Batman snaps the trigger and a sound equivalent to the noon whistle blares down the trail…followed by disappearing giggles.

I cross a few side streets and get to the part of the trail where the woods start. It’s nice and cool, Trilliums and Wild Violets lace the sides of the trail like tree jewelry; ankle bracelets for the feet of the forest floor. I look up and spot some yellow finches flittering to a destination only they know, and see what looks like a Poinsettia hanging from one of the tree branches. It’s been there for quite some time now and I know it’s plastic but, I just always check to see if it’s ever going to fall. It’s like the deer antler that’s hanging from the telephone wire on Cedar Saulk Road; I always check to see if it’s still there. It hasn’t disappointed me yet.

I travel further and witness something so worthy of a Kodak moment, but unfortunately I have no camera at hand. There’s a gray tabby cat hanging precariously by one paw on a bird bath where a Robin has decided to perch for a spell. Not that I dislike Robins, but I was rooting for the little Puss n’ Boot’s bravado; I suspect its attempt was futile. Its times like these that I wish I had a camera mounted to my helmet and a snap shot trigger that worked alongside my shifters. No one would believe some of the things I’ve seen.

I reached the club members who were relatively few this evening. The weather had once again provided us with a boisterous north wind and we naturally had a route butting heads with the witch’s breathe. We started out with all intentions of doing the Belgium route but quickly changed our minds for a little less wind resistance. I suggested the trail to Port and off we headed. It was actually quite nice and a welcomed change. It was on the way back that we were pushed like maniacs by Ol’ Lady Blow Hard. What a treat to be doing 30 mph on Hwy T heading south. A couple of us continued down T, heading to Hwy W to do a hill since most of our ride back was a freebie.

Once again another superb Kodak moment presents itself with no camera, but at least I have witnesses. I was in the lead and spotted a calico kitten on the left side of the road on Hwy T. I was pointing it out to those behind just in case it decided it needed to be on the right side of the road at precisely the same time of their crossing. Cats are such unpredictable creatures. They always seem to want to be where ever they are not, if you know what I mean. They do these little unstrategic jettison moves, like they are catnip doping and inflicted with the worst case of feline attention span deficit. When you see them on the side of the road it’s like they play a game…”Kamikaze Cats.” Suicide is their game and it’s aimed at you. I was watching as the kitty sat on its haunches…not prepared to propel forward…but caution was necessary just the same. All of a sudden a BLACK cat from the RIGHT side of the road darts out but a passing car on my LEFT is the decoy cat magnet, not my steel (OK carbon) steed. Some of you cat lovers may not want to read further.

Well, we all heard the “thud” and watched the black beauty bounce up and do a half gainer over the hood. I thought for sure the car would be sporting a new hood ornament, or at the very least, land in my lap, but not so; it flew up and went down and did a tuck and roll that any Olympic gymnast would have been proud of. It continued in its unstrategic jettison maneuver and hit the ditch like a dead mackerel, but miraculously bounced up and caught its ninth life like it was a brass ring on a Disney carousel. It continued off gingerly into the adjacent field, acting as if nothing happened. The only thing stunned or dazed was me.

I for one am not THAT superstitious, but this whole entire episode was rather unnerving since it was a BLACK cat crossing MY path. However; since it was the cat that seemed to have a wee bit of bad luck by butting heads with its rival, the “horsepower from hell,” I kind of figured that maybe it was a “wash” on the bad luck for me. We all laughed about what happened and decided it definitely gave credence to cats having nine lives. I pondered on the thought of whether the cat would have a “cat”astrophic headache the next day.

It’s amazing what you see while riding. What you must remember is no matter what you’re riding, whether it be tethered to one end of a dog leash, creatively buried as a young boy in the infamous “Bat mobile” baby carriage, riding on a steel (OK carbon) steed, or whether it be air born by the help of the “horsepower from hell,” make sure you enjoy the ride!