The Groundhog Story

I ride all year. Sometimes, in January of February. So, being in good condition, and having several long rides under my belt, I found myself camping with a group of horseback riders. Without a horse, on this occasion, I brought my bike instead.

I am a road biker. Mountain Biking is kind of a waste of effort in my opinion. With a mountain bike you travel in loops, within a park. With a road bike you can travel. There is no limitation to a park with boundaries. Friction. Friction is the problem with mountain bikes. The big knobby tires cause friction which slow you down. I'm not a racer, but I think most people who own mountain bikes, own SUV's and never take them off road. The bike or the SUV. Wrong vehicles for the wrong purpose. I should also say, I have seen real mountain bikers, on trails, which would be difficult to walk up. I have sincere respect for anyone who can ride a bike up a rocky mountain side. That takes some effort.

My route followed back roads. From the horse camp at Ceasar's Creek to Xenia, Ohio. You can view the ride online with Google Maps: http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=110791345518075955222.00046943cff688ed5e689&z=11
There is a road called "Old Winchester Trail". This is a cyclist dream road. It bends and winds through the rural countryside, with very little traffic on a Saturday morning. I always look for dogs. I was looking for dogs when the groundhog came out of the brush on the side of the road.

Cruising down hill at about 20 miles per hour, it took me few seconds to slow down. You see the ground hog and myself were on a collision course. Then the groundhog stopped. He, stood up and looked directly at me. I thought the animal would turn around and run back into the thick brush on the side of the road. I released my brakes and quickly accelerated down the hill. The ground hog must have decided at the same time, that I was stopping to politely let the old beast cross the road. He ran for it, thunking his face squarely into the rim of my rear wheel.

I had swerved as the groundhog came at me, but not enough to miss the critter. The impact almost put me on the pavement. The animal stunned, stood up once again. On his hind legs he began howling at me in agony. His skinned nose as high in the air as he could get it. I sped away down the hill, my heart beating a little faster. Feeling sorry for the ground hog and it's skinned nose. I'm sure that if I had stopped the animal would have run over and bit me.

That night, at the campfire, I told the "Groundhog Story". Occasionally, I get to tell the story again. It always gets some laughs. I never thought I would hit a groundhog while riding my bicycle. Cycling is dangerous. Ask the ground hog.