So today I had my first crash on my bike since I was about 11. I've been riding around the house for a little while now, my hope is to get in enough shape to go down to the park near the river. Today I went the full length of Wellesley, down past Freya to a steep windy hill that curves up past a run down farm. They had cattle, hogs and chickens. As I was slowly making my way up the hill, I rounded a bend and on the other side of the road stood a pig-- just out in the open, not in a pen or anything. He was about the size of a cocker spaniel. And he was looking right at me. I coasted to a stop and decided I'd gone far enough.
I began to turn around (this was a narrow one-lane road). Just then, the pig lowered his head and charged me, all the while making angry pig noises. I started turning around from uphill to downhill, and with panic rising, I began to ratchet the grip shifter to a faster gear. I was also running out of road. While trying to keep an eye on the rapidly closing swine, I got the front wheel off the road into the soft gravel and it started to skid. So I gracelessly folded the bike over to the left, nailing my knee, elbow and somehow grinding the knuckles on my right hand.
Now, for those of you who are related to me and have had enough of my health problems, stand down the armed forces: I'm totally fine. I repeat: I'm fine. Jakki put hydrogen peroxide on the scrapes and I took an Advil. Anyway, back to the story...
So there I was, laying on a road with my bike mostly on top of me, looking back at a charging pig. He abruptly stopped and held my gaze for a moment. Then he gave a derisive little snort and trotted back up the hill to survey his domain. For those keeping track with our home game, the scroe is: Pig one, me zero. So I got back up, examined the bike for damage and headed home, stopping to call Jakki to relate this story.
So how's that for a strange Saturday afternoon?