I normally would not just put a pic of myself, but this is a friendly reminder to watch out for suicidal/kamikaze squirrels. Oh sure, they look cute and all, but they have ulterior motives or as some might say...an agenda. It all began on my evening training ride. I strolled out of the driveway to get in 20 miles of hard TT training with the goal of staying above 21 mph most of the way minus some of the sharp turns. 30 minutes into the workout, I am on a long straight hunkered down and hammering away at the pedals when I saw him. He jumped from a tree next to the left side of the road just past the Bear Branch pool. He hit the ground in a full spring B-lining it for my front wheel. I was somewhat in the middle of the lane, so a nudged the handlbars to the right to steer clear of the crazed animal. Did he respond to this by slowing down or turning away? No...of course not! He adjusted his attack instead, bared his head downward and picked up speed for the front of my Schwalbe kevlar tires on my Time Edge Pulse machine. Determined to take me out he jarred himself under my front wheel. My wheel did the rest...SNAP! I heard his back break and due to the location of where he threw himself, my sled threw him straight up in the air into my face! My right hand rose to the occassion attempting to get the furry creature out of my eyes. Meanwhile, my left hand, still on the bars, overcompensated and steered me straight into the curb. At 23 mph, I was thrown from my carbon fiber steed over the bars into someone else's front yard hitting head first, then shoulder, arm, right hip and knee. I could hear the helmet give and pop when I collided with the earth. As I rolled over to survey teh damage to myself and my ride, all was okay minus a large amount of turf, some blood and the need for a new helmet. My two-wheeled fitness machine lay in the grass wiht shifters needing readjustment, grass hanging from the derailers, shifters, and chain. Turf hung from my helmet, dug into the side of my Lance Armstrong cleats, and stood out from under my bib shorts. I noticed about ten feet behind me two little cocked eyes. He laid there on the concrete about five feet in front of the mail box. He flailed in a circular motion as if laughing at me. He kicked his little paws in the air one last time, breathed his last and lay there lifeless. Squirrel dead. Bike okay. Me...well, a little bruised, battered, but will ride again another day. At least this squirrel didn't wreck me into the concrete!
So, bewared of suicide/kamikaze squirrels while you are riding, training or just out for a stroll. You never know when they will attack!