Post #1000 Chilling tale of The Hounds of the Baskervilles
ColinJ
Posts: 2,218
Well, at long last the time has come to make my 1000th post on the C+, oops sorry, BikeRadar forum. I wanted to mark the occasion with more than just the usual 'Wow, it's my 1000th post!', so here it is...
First, I'd like to say thanks to the cycling friends I've made through the forum for the rides you organised, and for coming along on my rides too. I hope we share more hours on the road together this year. I originally signed up for the forum to find other people to ride with after my usual cycling partner cleared off to warmer climes/climbs. Yes, I know there are clubs but I'm not really a club kind of person. The forum did it for me.
I have a nice route planned for the summer, but I'll wait a while before posting details. Keep an eye on the Sportives and Road Rides section in a couple of months time.
"What about that dog story you promised us!" I hear you all cry. Oh, very well, if you insist...
On I went, through Maxstoke, and on towards Shustoke. It was then that I encountered the occupants of CHAV 1. Yes, I know, it's judgemental of me. I should try harder not to think that every young man driving a hot hatchback is a 'chav'. Just because they are always accelerating or braking, but never actually going anywhere at a steady, legal speed, doesn't mean that they couldn't if they wanted to. It's just that they evidently don't want to... It was one of my New Year's Resolutions - don't judge a chav book by its Burberry cover. So I didn't. I saw the earrings (they are not chavs). I observed the gesticulations from the car's occupants (they are not chavs). The megawatt stereo in the boot of the car was booming out a chav tune but... (they are not chavs). So a car unfairly assumed to be CHAV 1 shot towards me at great speed, then suddenly slowed down almost to a crawl as it approached. Here we go... The rear passenger wound down his window (he will not throw anything at me, he is not a chav). He motioned for me to slow down. Since he was not a chav, and I was not going to unfairly assume that he was in fact one, I slowed down to see if I could be of assistance. The lads were probably on their way to offer help to their local community, but had lost their way. After a moment's consideration, I was convinced that they had indeed lost their collective way, and would all soon be doing Community Service. How could I help? I leaned towards the open window. The lad in the back smiled at me and beckoned. I moved closer. Closer still. He mumbled something. "Pardon me?" I asked. "YOU'RE A F**KING W**KER!!!!!!!!" came the erudite reply into my right ear at about 136 dB. Ha ha ha, nice one lads, fooled again - you got me there! The driver floored the throttle and the car-unfailry-assumed-to-be-CHAV-1 disappeared up the road with smoke billowing from its tyres. U gotta larf, doncha...?
After that pleasurable little diversion (thanks lads!), my mind slowly drifted back to my sunny bicycle ride. Ah, just relax and pedal...
The last time I was in that area, I'd found a little lane which took me round to something called a working colliery. They are very strange things, collieries, especially working ones. They used to be common in Britain, but they are now considered collectors' items because of their rarity value. We had to get rid of the mines because the mine workers had ideas above their station - decent wages, hot water for the pithead showers, that kind of thing. Mrs. Thatcher had the vision to see that the poor workers' futures lay elsewhere, not toiling underground in the heat and the dirt. Yes, Mrs. T. realised that Call Centres were the future. And she was right, you know, because they are now one of the UK's biggest exports. But I digress...
I passed the pit, went under a railway bridge and then did a right turn onto the B4098 and almost immediately a left onto the road to Old Arley. The road headed upwards and soon I was grinding my way up a steepish little hill on the outskirts of the village. Nothing much to worry about normally, but being stuck in a 39/15 gear made it feel like hard work. Never mind - What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger. Actually, that's a load of old nonsense, that saying, isn't it! I mean, if you fell into a mincing machine at a Bernard Matthew's turkey farm, but were pulled out and survived, minus limbs, you wouldn't exactly be able to sprint up Alpe d'Huez on your bike would you!
I saw some high ornate gates open at the side of a posh country house ahead on my right. A big 4x4 then turned right and drove off away from me, pursued by a huge bloody Rottweiler! The driver definitely knew that the dog was running alongside him because I could see him waving at the dog. Did he stop and take the dog back? Like hell he did... The dog was left to fend for itself on the road! I was reluctant to place myself between the dog and its home because dogs can get very territorial, so I stopped astride my bike and remained very still. The dog turned and started loping its way back towards the open gates, from time to time sniffing the grass verge and scent-marking it. He hadn't seen me - phew, what a relief...
But then I heard a blood curdling snarl and a f**king HUGE Great Dane came bounding out of the gates and headed straight for me!!! I leapt off my bike and picked it up to use as a shield to prevent the dog getting at me. It was snarling viciously; I was, how shall I put it - feeling 'somewhat nervous'. The dog lunged to my left so I swung the bike to the left, it tried going to the right and I swung the bike at its snout on my right. In my deepest, most macho voice, I screamed "GET BAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!" at the dog. It looked stunned and stood there for a second but then it went for me again. As if things weren't bad enough, the Rottweiler was now barking and heading towards me. S**t!!! There was no way that I could fend off two big dogs simultaneously...
Suddenly, a little side gate to the house opened and a woman poked her head out. She didn't say a word, and disappeared back into the garden, clearly too ashamed to show her face. A reluctant lad was then shoved out of the gate. He was blushing fiercely as he ran across and grabbed the dogs by their collars. He dragged them back into the garden, closing the gate behind him. Not a word was spoken. What - not even a cheery "It's okay, they don't bite!!!"...?
I'd given gave both woman and young man my famous 'black withering look of death'. Once the dogs were safely out of range, I jumped back on my bike and sprinted off past the queue of traffic which had built up the other way while this was happening. Not one of the drivers had done anything to help me so I shook my head and glared at them too for good measure - some people, I don't know!
I'm pretty confident with dogs generally, but that encounter really shook me up...[To be continued on post #2,000!]
And the moral of this story is... Next time you intend riding from the B4098 towards Old Arley, make sure that your will is up to date. Either that, or carry a loaded shotgun clipped to your crossbar!
First, I'd like to say thanks to the cycling friends I've made through the forum for the rides you organised, and for coming along on my rides too. I hope we share more hours on the road together this year. I originally signed up for the forum to find other people to ride with after my usual cycling partner cleared off to warmer climes/climbs. Yes, I know there are clubs but I'm not really a club kind of person. The forum did it for me.
I have a nice route planned for the summer, but I'll wait a while before posting details. Keep an eye on the Sportives and Road Rides section in a couple of months time.
"What about that dog story you promised us!" I hear you all cry. Oh, very well, if you insist...
-
So there I was enjoying a nice ride in the sunshine on my single-speed bike in North Warwickshire. It was a fine day for cycling, just a gentle breeze, sunny, warm, but not too hot - perfect! I found out later that it was the warmest February day on record in the UK.
I'd set out to explore a network of lanes in the Meriden-Fillongley area and was having a very nice time indeed, ta-very-much. There were two rabbits a-bunny-hopping to my left, then two squirrels a-squirreling to my right. I headed round by Packington Park and saw two deer a-grazing close to the road. Then suddenly I saw two pheasants a-mating in the road ahead -
On I went, through Maxstoke, and on towards Shustoke. It was then that I encountered the occupants of CHAV 1. Yes, I know, it's judgemental of me. I should try harder not to think that every young man driving a hot hatchback is a 'chav'. Just because they are always accelerating or braking, but never actually going anywhere at a steady, legal speed, doesn't mean that they couldn't if they wanted to. It's just that they evidently don't want to... It was one of my New Year's Resolutions - don't judge a chav book by its Burberry cover. So I didn't. I saw the earrings (they are not chavs). I observed the gesticulations from the car's occupants (they are not chavs). The megawatt stereo in the boot of the car was booming out a chav tune but... (they are not chavs). So a car unfairly assumed to be CHAV 1 shot towards me at great speed, then suddenly slowed down almost to a crawl as it approached. Here we go... The rear passenger wound down his window (he will not throw anything at me, he is not a chav). He motioned for me to slow down. Since he was not a chav, and I was not going to unfairly assume that he was in fact one, I slowed down to see if I could be of assistance. The lads were probably on their way to offer help to their local community, but had lost their way. After a moment's consideration, I was convinced that they had indeed lost their collective way, and would all soon be doing Community Service. How could I help? I leaned towards the open window. The lad in the back smiled at me and beckoned. I moved closer. Closer still. He mumbled something. "Pardon me?" I asked. "YOU'RE A F**KING W**KER!!!!!!!!" came the erudite reply into my right ear at about 136 dB. Ha ha ha, nice one lads, fooled again - you got me there! The driver floored the throttle and the car-unfailry-assumed-to-be-CHAV-1 disappeared up the road with smoke billowing from its tyres. U gotta larf, doncha...?
After that pleasurable little diversion (thanks lads!), my mind slowly drifted back to my sunny bicycle ride. Ah, just relax and pedal...
The last time I was in that area, I'd found a little lane which took me round to something called a working colliery. They are very strange things, collieries, especially working ones. They used to be common in Britain, but they are now considered collectors' items because of their rarity value. We had to get rid of the mines because the mine workers had ideas above their station - decent wages, hot water for the pithead showers, that kind of thing. Mrs. Thatcher had the vision to see that the poor workers' futures lay elsewhere, not toiling underground in the heat and the dirt. Yes, Mrs. T. realised that Call Centres were the future. And she was right, you know, because they are now one of the UK's biggest exports. But I digress...
I passed the pit, went under a railway bridge and then did a right turn onto the B4098 and almost immediately a left onto the road to Old Arley. The road headed upwards and soon I was grinding my way up a steepish little hill on the outskirts of the village. Nothing much to worry about normally, but being stuck in a 39/15 gear made it feel like hard work. Never mind - What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger. Actually, that's a load of old nonsense, that saying, isn't it! I mean, if you fell into a mincing machine at a Bernard Matthew's turkey farm, but were pulled out and survived, minus limbs, you wouldn't exactly be able to sprint up Alpe d'Huez on your bike would you!
I saw some high ornate gates open at the side of a posh country house ahead on my right. A big 4x4 then turned right and drove off away from me, pursued by a huge bloody Rottweiler! The driver definitely knew that the dog was running alongside him because I could see him waving at the dog. Did he stop and take the dog back? Like hell he did... The dog was left to fend for itself on the road! I was reluctant to place myself between the dog and its home because dogs can get very territorial, so I stopped astride my bike and remained very still. The dog turned and started loping its way back towards the open gates, from time to time sniffing the grass verge and scent-marking it. He hadn't seen me - phew, what a relief...
But then I heard a blood curdling snarl and a f**king HUGE Great Dane came bounding out of the gates and headed straight for me!!! I leapt off my bike and picked it up to use as a shield to prevent the dog getting at me. It was snarling viciously; I was, how shall I put it - feeling 'somewhat nervous'. The dog lunged to my left so I swung the bike to the left, it tried going to the right and I swung the bike at its snout on my right. In my deepest, most macho voice, I screamed "GET BAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!" at the dog. It looked stunned and stood there for a second but then it went for me again. As if things weren't bad enough, the Rottweiler was now barking and heading towards me. S**t!!! There was no way that I could fend off two big dogs simultaneously...
Suddenly, a little side gate to the house opened and a woman poked her head out. She didn't say a word, and disappeared back into the garden, clearly too ashamed to show her face. A reluctant lad was then shoved out of the gate. He was blushing fiercely as he ran across and grabbed the dogs by their collars. He dragged them back into the garden, closing the gate behind him. Not a word was spoken. What - not even a cheery "It's okay, they don't bite!!!"...?
I'd given gave both woman and young man my famous 'black withering look of death'. Once the dogs were safely out of range, I jumped back on my bike and sprinted off past the queue of traffic which had built up the other way while this was happening. Not one of the drivers had done anything to help me so I shook my head and glared at them too for good measure - some people, I don't know!
I'm pretty confident with dogs generally, but that encounter really shook me up...[To be continued on post #2,000!]
And the moral of this story is... Next time you intend riding from the B4098 towards Old Arley, make sure that your will is up to date. Either that, or carry a loaded shotgun clipped to your crossbar!
0
Comments
-
Hi Colin J
Thanks for sharing your story - I like your style 8) looking forward to the next installment.
FFS, a Great Dane and a Rottweiller! :shock: :shock:0 -
My thoughts exactly!popette wrote:FFS, a Great Dane and a Rottweiller! :shock: :shock:
I like dogs, but if due to a criminally negligent owner it comes down to me or a dog, the dog gets it! I was quite prepared to wrap my bike round the Great Dane's head if I had to, though I didn't want to. Once the Rottweiler started to join in, I felt like I had no alternative. I wouldn't hit a big dog gently because it would just anger it. I'd be aiming to kill or disable. The owners emerged just in time...
I'm a biggish guy (6' 1", currently 14 st +) and I felt really intimidated. I can't imagine what a small adult or a child would have felt like...
The thing is, the dogs appeared to be really well looked after. You'd think that someone who loved dogs would not want them running about on busy roads, potentially getting run over. Let's ignore the safety of other road users - those people weren't even protecting their dogs!0 -
Sounds like quite an adventure - dogs are always a worry - especially when they sound like that Great Dane!
I cycle around Meriden - Fillongley - nice country lanes (but might avoid the dog hot spot)!0 -
Hi Colin J,
I enjoyed reading your story, but then I made the mistake of looking up 'how to defend against dog attacks'... the results didn't fill me with confidence
Red Rock0 -
Hmm, I just Googled for that... I certainly wouldn't fancy the 'curl up in a ball and hope the dog gives up' approach - that's asking to become dog food!Red Rock wrote:Hi Colin J,
I enjoyed reading your story, but then I made the mistake of looking up 'how to defend against dog attacks'... the results didn't fill me with confidence
Red Rock
Lots of people suggest ramming your arm down the dog's throat because it wouldn't be able to bite properly and would choke on it. I once saw a Pitbull bite through a housebrick and I wouldn't fancy one doing that to my arm.
Everyone says not to run from an aggressive dog, because they instinctively attack from behind. I'd also say don't try and cycle away from an attacking dog unless you are already up to speed. If they manage to bring you down, you have no chance!
I was chased by a Dobermann once and it nearly caught me. I spotted it leaping over a wall to get at me so I did a u-turn in the road and charged downhill to get away from it but it still nearly had me and I was doing over 35 mph by then. It's great sprint-training, by the way - watch this clip from American Flyers!
The best known defence is to sacrifice a smaller cycling partner to the dog while you go for help. If you don't have a small friend handy, talk to the dog in a very strange accent, and sneak away while it is trying to work out what you said . 0
