Had I been strapped in ten years ago when I was riding, I might not be here today.

Here's what happened:

I was riding my bike out to a baseball field to watch a student play baseball. After a little while of watching, shaking some hands, etc., I wanted to take a little ride.

All of a sudden I looked up and saw several skydivers falling toward me from thousands of feet above. When their chutes opened I watched as they, one-by-one, decended to the ground behind a grove of trees a couple hundred yards away.

I rode in their direction, but soon came to a dead end. Through the trees I could see a small airstrip with an airplane and the falling skydivers gathering up their gear. I was watching, mesmerized.


Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw, on the front porch of a nearby house, a pitbull sleeping. As soon as I looked at him I had a feeling he was going to come charging, even though he was asleep. No sooner did I put one foot on my pedal than he woke up, gave a quick bark and growl, and came racing toward me.

Unfortunately, my bike and I were facing him, so I had to quickly pick my bike up, turn it around, and start riding me arse off.

Dogs accelerate better than someone who is on a bike and in the wrong gear.

So, as I picked up speed the dog came up along side of me. Luckily, my foot swung at him as he lunged. Perfect timing on my part, and I connected with his chops and sent him rolling across the ground as my foot neatly recovered, got back on the peddle, and continued gaining speed until he gave up and went home.

That wasn't fun.