Dogs and Drivers: Coming to Terms with the Trauma

Better late than never, right?  Despite my great plans to return promptly on Monday, life threw some curve balls in the form of an ill cat, so the schedule got a little messed up with running back and forth to the vet.  The good news is, he's going to be fine.  Personally, I think it was an evil plot to get back at us for going on vacation.

Speaking of vacation, I've learned a valuable lesson about them:  the best laid plans often go awry.

We started the week off riding our bikes around town and to the archaeological site.  It was fun.  For about four days.  The town of Plymouth is a tourist town and thus is packed on the weekends.  It was pretty intense avoiding opening doors, errant pedestrians, and bike cops riding the wrong direction in the dark with no lights.  However, we didn't have any issues with the drivers.  Everyone was really good about giving us room and allowing us to take the lane.  Riding in town, though more intense than here at home, was mostly pleasant, even going up those steep hills out of the harbor.

However, riding to the site was another story.  The site is in the town of Kingston, which is just north of Plymouth.  There is a trail that runs for about a mile or so from our hotel to an old shopping center in Kingston.  It covered half our commute.  After that, we had to use the main drag through town because there weren't any back streets.  Once we were out of the tourist area, drivers were more aggressive so we had to be extra alert.  We had to haul a lot of equipment and a cooler between the two of us, but we managed it rather well, even in the torrential downpour we got on Tuesday.  For three days, I was the cycling archaeologist (not to be confused with the Cycling Librarian).

My bike at the site, complete with trowel.

Then, Wednesday afternoon rolled around.  For some reason, I wasn't looking forward to the ride back.  It had been the hottest day of the week and I spent the whole time on my feet or contorted in an excavation unit.  I was tired and just wanted air conditioning, a shower, and a beer.  Nevertheless, we hopped on the bikes and began the journey to the hotel.  As soon as I pulled away from the site, I passed a house on the opposite side of the street.  As we passed, I saw the homeowner open his front door and release his two dogs.  They were immediately on my wheel.  Immediately.  Don't ask me what kind of dogs they were, because I'm pretty sure they looked like this.

Since there were two of them, I determined I had two options:  1) Ride like the wind  or 2) stop.  I also tried yelling in my nastiest Batman impression voice (since it usually scares my dog straight).



Ask my husband, I sound exactly like that.  I often scare myself.  Unfortunately, it didn't have any affect on those two hounds of hell.  I happen to like dogs, but I don't trust strange ones.  Since I didn't know these dogs at all I decided I would treat them as dangerous.  So, I tried out pedaling them.  Of course, all of this was taking place on an ascent as soon as I got on my bike.  I didn't even have a chance to warm up.  Therefore, I was less than successful at reaching top speed, and felt a snappy zing in my right quad.  Ouch.

Meanwhile, there were a ton of cars coming up behind, including the idiot dog owner who went careening out of their driveway, nearly causing a wreck.  With all the traffic, I was concerned the dogs would end up getting hit, which is certainly not an outcome I wanted.  I'd much prefer the owner get hit than the dogs.  So, I opted to slow down at a point they wouldn't notice, hoping something would distract them long enough for me to duck behind.  I didn't want to stop altogether since they may bite.  Just then, the dog on my right ran directly in front of me and hit my tire.  Thankfully, I compensated and didn't crash, but just like one of the Three Stooges, the dog thought his buddy had grabbed him- not the bike.  So, he went after the other dog and for a split second, they forgot all about me. I ducked back, than sped on ahead and the two hounds of hell disappeared in my mirror.  Whew!  Between the intensity of the dog attack and the splitting pain above my knee, I was not doing so well.  But, we had to keep going.

I did not enjoy my first dog attack in the least, but it provided a nice show for
the other archaeologists.

Wouldn't it figure that would be the day the local psychopaths would all be on the road?  Not a half mile down the road some guy in an SUV buzzed us- as close as he could.  Then, we were shouted at by a car full of teenagers.  What really took the cake, though, was the person than intentionally tried to run into me.

We were approaching the left turn off the main drag that would take us to the bike path.  I checked my mirror to make sure no one was next to us so we could take the lane (the roads are too congested to take the lane the whole time).  There was an SUV far behind us so there was plenty of room to take the lane and make the turn.  We were also on a descent and moving at about 25mph (the speed limit), so we weren't hindering traffic.  I took the lane and signaled the left turn about three driveways back.  My husband was a good distance behind me.  All of a sudden, the SUV accelerated, passed my husband and got directly behind me.  They were yelling to get out of the way.  I emphasized that I was turning left, but then they attempted to pass me anyway by going into the opposite lane.  They revved the engine and sped up as I began my turn.

"NO! NO! NO!"  I screamed in my very best Batman voice.  They yelled something profane in return.  I made the turn (barely) and they kept on screaming as they floored it.  Since my husband was behind all of this, he was spared.  Yeah, that's right, he didn't get attacked by the dogs or the car.

Some of you may think that was a good example of when to get a plate number and report them.  They were attempting to attack me with their vehicle and that would be just cause to file a complaint.  The truth is, we don't understand how intense that situation is until we experience it.  I was too busy avoiding the car and not crashing to memorize a plate number.  I'm pretty sure my husband was more concerned with what he was witnessing to do that either.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, but I was really shaken and in a lot of pain.

That was the last time we rode our bikes on our vacation.

My knee was in bad shape the rest of the week.  In fact, today is the first day there hasn't been any pain. Add that to the aches we accumulated from the archaeological work, and our bodies were totally exhausted come Saturday for our planned ride on the Cape.

Trust me, spend 8 hours a day for 6 straight days in this position,
shoveling dirt, or carrying 50lb buckets and you will be
hurting too.

Well, we thought, maybe we'll drive out further and ride less.  However, it was Carnival weekend in Provincetown and with that comes a lot of craziness.  We opted to forego the ride altogether.  The last thing we wanted was another bad experience with loonies while we were on bikes.  Me made the right decision.  Just walking around was painful.  Instead, we went to see the whales off the coast and then drove to New Bedford to see the historical district and the Whaling Museum, which had one of these:

Not sure what a boneshaker has to do with whaling. 

So, did cycling improve our vacation experience?  Not really.  We did enjoy riding around in Plymouth itself and it certainly was nice being able to park without paying.  It was smooth sailing in the tourist area, and the drivers were responsible and cautious.  However, I would say riding there is best for those that have plenty of experience.  Its a shame we were not physically ready to attempt the ride on the Cape since we've heard such wonderful things about it.

Unfortunately, our ride on Wednesday was so awful and scary, we didn't want to continue riding.  It really shook me up and quite frankly, I needed a break from the bike.  Even though, the worst consequence of the ride was a hurt knee, the thought of having to face something like that again on the next ride was too overwhelming.  I've never had anyone be that aggressive with their car in Akron, which is far from bike friendly.  I was jolted by the fact that someone was actually ok with hitting me, and attempted to do so.  I didn't want to ride in that town again.  I'm sure there are places in Massachusetts and Cape Cod that are very pleasurable to ride in, but Kingston is definitely not one of them.

If the riding isn't fun, I'm not going to ride.

I haven't ridden since we returned home, mostly because of my schedule.  However, I certainly don't have warm fuzzy feelings yet about bike commuting yet.  I think that ride is going to stick with me for a while.

But, don't worry, just like the time I fell off a horse and landed on my head, I will get back on...next week.

In the meantime, here are some of the humpback whales we got to see on Saturday.  Yeah, a little more awesome than a bike ride anyway.