3 Dog Day

The weather for the most part has been decent the last few days here in Oregon. Enough so that I decided it was time to start riding to work again. So, on Monday, I loaded up the car with clothes and other needed toiletry items and hauled them to work for another season of using alternate transportation. Biking does a few good things for me - I get in my needed time on the bike instead of sitting in the car, when I get home, I get to stay at home, and it is good for the environment.

The first day back to riding to work was a 3 dogger, meaning I was chased by three dogs during my travels. The first was on the way up Haugen road. Of course, it had to be on one of the steep parts (some 13%) that the dog decided to harass me. He was up the road and saw me coming. Immediately the dog jumped to its feet, started barking, and running towards me. This was not a friendly dog my friend. In response, I started yelling at the dog. Usually the deep timbers of my voice is enough to dissuade any dog from coming in my direction. This dog must have been deaf. He was threatening enough that I stop, got off the bike, and picked up a large stick. The dog was probably deaf but not blind. So picture this, on this tree shaded and enclosed, steep street, I stand with my bike between me and the dog, yielding this broad sword of a stick. I am yelling, the dog stopped and barking at me. What to do? I couldn't get back on the bike and take off while holding the stick. This would be like a knight trying to get onto his horse without any help while brandishing his sword. We are at a standstill. I start to walk up the hill and the dog mirrors my movements. He is out of "sword" reach to give him a wack but menacing enough to me to not try and remount. Finally, after a few steps, the appearant dog owner drives out of their driveway and the dog follows, leaving me with my stick and thoughts. I get back on the bike and get to work in record time, even with the few minutes of dog/man face off.

The next dog encounter occurred on the ride home. I had made the Krueger road turn and have started up another hill, moving towards the green house. The dog surprised me. I turned, gave a loud yell. This dog was not deaf. It slowed down a bit, ran a few yards behind me for a few houses, and then disappeared after a few words of encouragement from me.

The final dog showed up in my path on the way up to Gibb cemetary - the final climb of the day for me. The difference with this dog was it saw me, paid me no mind as I passed, and then decided I must be worth some effort so it jumped up and half-heartedly chased me up the hill. One "stop" yell sufficiently threatening was enough to discourage the beast. The remaining miles home were uneventful.

Why all the dogs I asked myselft? Maybe I smelled like a nice piece of steak, maybe the red of the bike is like the red of a bull fighter, maybe it was hot and the dogs were agitated and why always while I was on a hill did they decide to attack. Whatever it was, I was happy to be home and glad I road to work. I have a few more days to ride to work this year - maybe I need to get a can of mace or other dog repellant tool.