I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well,
headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home.
As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my
full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding
through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think,
and regain that “edge” so frequently required when riding.
Little did I suspect…
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from
under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a
squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it
encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no
time to brake or avoid it—it was that close.
I hate to run over animals…and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but
a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for
the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was
standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with
steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at
the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the
scream was squirrel for, “Banzai!” or maybe, “Die you gravy-sucking,
heathen scum!” as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the
windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.
http://lifeisaroad.com/stories/2004/10/29/neighborhoodHazardorWhyTheCopsWontPatrolBriceStreet.html
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