With the coldness of winter (and the comfort foods that come with) behinds us, and the threat of swim suits, sun glasses and saggy bits looming down upon us, the time has come to get back on my bike. it takes me an hour to ride to work, 1 1/2 hours to get home. So far I haven't attempted the double ride and I'm so glad to have my husband either pick me up or drop me off with the bike in the back of the van. On the way home the other day I missed a turn off and ended up in unfamiliar territory, which happened to be the same territory as a nesting magpie. It's one of those unforgettable sounds from childhood. It's the whoosh whoosh of wings and the sharp clack of a beak snatching at the back of your head that, for the briefest of moments, creates a fear that grips your very soul. And then, just as you realise what has happened, it happens again! It always happens again....
Do the people who have makeshift antennae attached to their bike helmets live without the fear of magpies?
This morning was a similar but different kind of experience. I heard the whoosh whoosh and all my senses went a little bit crazy as I ducked my head away from the dreaded beak onslaught. But it wasn't a stealth maggie hot on my heals this time; it was a lycra clad-I'm late for breakfast-type coming up behind me at the speed of sound. Where am I supposed to put my makeshift antennae to ward off these demons of the bike paths?
Always up for a good yarn...