So I'm cruising down the caleche road on Mount Royal, dodging the horse-sh*t [sorry, censors, I don't really know how else to put it], feeling my rear wheel bite into the newly-thawed dirt with each turn... generally feeling good.

I come up behind an older woman at about 30 km/h. She's out for a walk on the mountain, gingerly picking her way through the mud, the horse sh*t [there's that word again] and the remains of the snow. She's dressed Victorian [and I don't mean Victoria's Secret] and looks like she's be the kind of librarian -- if that's what she was -- who'll "SHUSSSSSSSSSH" you every five minutes.

Being the gentleman cyclocrosser that I am, I make my presence known. "A gauche, on your left," I yell as a warning. Startled. the woman jumps to the side -- into a puddle of mud and melted horse sh*t.

Now, I didn't mean to cause her trouble, worry or hardship, and I do try to be a good citizen when sharing the parks, but I have to admit that was pretty satisfying [in an infantile, juvenile sort of way ].