It was an early Saturday morning during the Spring. Just the type of day I like to ride. Most people aren’t out and about yet so I get the roads to myself for the most part. At least so I thought.
Nothing unusual about this particular morning. Crystal clear weather, about 65 degrees outside. Just perfect for a nice leisurely ride on the old cruiser.
After about 45 minutes into the ride I was coming down a slight hill and noticed a black patch at the bottom. The local department of transportation had been doing a lot of pothole patching after the winter so I just assumed it was yet another filled hole. By the time I realized it wasn’t, it was too late.
About 5 feet in front of the corpse I swerved to try to avoid it. It was futile though. My front wheel had direct impact with the dead raccoon’s head and as I rode over it at about 35mph I heard it crunch under the weight of the front end. Now this isn’t really that big of a deal usually. It didn’t throw me off balance or make me drop the bike or anything.
What did happen, was an explosion of visceral contents that turned into a mass of bloody projectiles covering my entire body. Thank the baby Jesus I had my visor down, because it looked like a scene from Dexter.
My only choice at that point was to go back home and cut my ride short. Boots, riding pants, jacket, gloves, helmet, all covered in rabies blood. At least I assume it was a rabid raccoon. I don’t know for sure.
I don’t know what the lesson is here, but there must be one. All I know is, expect the unexpected when you ride. Otherwise, you might end up with eating death raccoon for breakfast.