Hello all. 

I went out for a ride on Saturday while the weather was nice. I'm now at 4,975 kms on 
my Cannondale. My goal this season is 5,000. I'd have done it if I hadn't run out of 
sunlight. I know I'm already over that (I rented a bike in Banff), but I like to see 
it on my odometre. I'll get that last 25 before the snow flies, or maybe not, but 
definitely before the end of the season. 

Anyhow, I was heading south, doing the Rideau River Park Loop (dx of 75 kms from my 
place - return via Malakoff). I was on Regional Road 5 between Century Road and North 
Gower. I was minding my own business when I saw a very large dump truck (is there 
another kind?) start to pass a vehicle I could not, at that point, see behind the 
crest of a hill. The truck driver could clearly see me but that did not matter - he 
was going to pass whatever was in front of him come hell or high water. Since I wanted 
to live long enough to roll over 5,000 kms this season, I had no choice but to leave 
the paved road and into the gravel. I slowed and shook my fist defiantly at this 
ignorant and selfish truck driver. Needless to say, I was just a little bit torqued 
after that experience - the worst this season. I was so angry I found myself 
evaluating whether I had enough time to stop and rifle a rock at this moron. I also 
dismissed the irrational thought of mounting a sling-shot on my handlebars. Where's a 
rocket-launcher when you need one?

As luck would have it, just south of North Gower, on the same road, a dog came 
charging after me from the opposite site of the road, narrowly evading an oncoming 
car. This dog was rather large half breed, and definitely had the intent of putting 
the haebius grabbus on my framus. At this point, I was in absolutely no mood to put up 
with a dog. I almost started laughing when I thought, "dog - you picked thee absoIute 
worst time to come after me". I actually enjoyed screaming at the top of my lungs at 
this dog. He came within about 2 feet of me. I kept shouting at him long after he gave 
up chasing me. I was so angry at this point that I slowed down a bit and even 
considered turning around for a nanosecond or two, so that I could keep shouting at 
him. He was very lucky I did not give him a diatribe on the terrible habits of dump 
truck drivers. The poor dog had it tail between its legs when it had turned around.

In spite of events like the above, I always feel relaxed after a ride. If the same 
type of thing happens when I am driving my car, I usually feel more hostile. I must 
admit that I have very little patience for dump truck drivers - ever since one ran me 
off the road in 1991 at Moodie and Knoxdale (now West Hunt Club), I went over my 
handlebars and had some nice road rash on one leg, arm and face and a front wheel that 
looked like a pretzel. 

In hindsight, I actually felt grateful towards the dog for letting me vent my anger 
towards the truck driver. One thing is certain - I much prefer meeting damsels in Jags 
instead of dump trucks and dogs. I hope Sir James would have reacted the same way. 

Well, I must go before Avery sends me an email titled "Where the hell is the next 
Spokesperson?" (it's coming along nicely).

-Rod Plunkett

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