funk my fixie
Regular
Hey guys
I do 20 miles each day which takes me up and over a nice big mountain and back along a cycle path. I see hundreds of sheep, horses, chickens etc along the route. There is one field, not too far from home, where the local inhabitant always seems to be by itself. I presume this is then a male sheep who enjoys the favourite male past time for a few weeks each year and spends the rest of his time chomping on the flora. He certainly is very keen to keep an eye on me as I pass him each evening.
Those big dark eyes follow you as you pass by and one can't help but wonder what is on his mind. Maybe just a simple "Mmmmm grass again, yum, yum" or, as you will all know, after a long cycle with sweat in your eyes, a thumping heart and a slightly dehydrated brain all too eager to start believing in fantasies, maybe it is more sinister, "I fancy human cyclist for my tea tonight."
(I can hear Robbie Coltrane's voice in my head right now narrating the part of the sheep in a similar manner to the way he narrated The Gruffalo
). Anyway I digress.
One night, the other week, it was late and I was enjoying the last rays of the dying sun, and eating my umpteenth fly when I trailed back along the path. I always push myself on my bike and obviously put more effort in on the home straight. I travel in the region of 20-22 mph and increase this to 24-26 in the last 2 miles or so. I was at this level of speed upon reaching his fence side. I do not purposely search for my stalker in his field yet had an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach as I passed his patch.
Suddenly from out of nowhere, this great ball of wool shot out next to me. "He's massive", I thought as I anchored the brakes, (As I ride a fixie, this involves trying to back pedal at the same time so as not to go over the handlebars.) I couldn't believe he had got out and was hot tailing it along the path.
Not an extraordinary story as yet, but suddenly in all the chaos he turned his head to look at me. "No f@#king way", I thought as his dark orbs held my gaze. There was this mass of quadruped, wool coat to boot pacing my now 15-18 mph along the path. The look in his eye was definitely that euphoric gaze of "watch me pal and eat my dust, YEAHHHHHH". He continued alongside me for around 20-30 metres and took a right through an open gate. I am sure as he left the track he did a victory leap, he was certainly bleating all the way home. I had been so shocked by it all I had not stopped but had just tried to remain calm and not hit him or a tree. Once he had returned to his abode I managed to pull over and regain my composure. Of course I dropped in to see the farmer to advise him that a gate had been left open and went on about my business.
However, I saw my new friend the following night and have decided that the look he gives me now is pretentious and self venerating. I can hear him in my head (Robbie Coltrane's voice again), "Ah you idiot beings ha ha ha, I'm super-sheep. You may have opposable thumbs and machines to ride but I can hold my own in a race against you." And more devilish laughter "HAHAHAHAHA."
As I said earlier, it is most likely just the loss of liquid that is responsible for the languidness and the imagination running on overtime, yet I still feel that this is what he is thinking. Either way I give him an equally distasteful look in return. One conveying, "You're fast pal, but not fast enough to outrun the meat cleaver." I pull a wry smile his direction and lick my lips. "Mmmm lamb chops for tea tonight." I think.
Have a great day all
Mark
I do 20 miles each day which takes me up and over a nice big mountain and back along a cycle path. I see hundreds of sheep, horses, chickens etc along the route. There is one field, not too far from home, where the local inhabitant always seems to be by itself. I presume this is then a male sheep who enjoys the favourite male past time for a few weeks each year and spends the rest of his time chomping on the flora. He certainly is very keen to keep an eye on me as I pass him each evening.
Those big dark eyes follow you as you pass by and one can't help but wonder what is on his mind. Maybe just a simple "Mmmmm grass again, yum, yum" or, as you will all know, after a long cycle with sweat in your eyes, a thumping heart and a slightly dehydrated brain all too eager to start believing in fantasies, maybe it is more sinister, "I fancy human cyclist for my tea tonight."
(I can hear Robbie Coltrane's voice in my head right now narrating the part of the sheep in a similar manner to the way he narrated The Gruffalo
). Anyway I digress. One night, the other week, it was late and I was enjoying the last rays of the dying sun, and eating my umpteenth fly when I trailed back along the path. I always push myself on my bike and obviously put more effort in on the home straight. I travel in the region of 20-22 mph and increase this to 24-26 in the last 2 miles or so. I was at this level of speed upon reaching his fence side. I do not purposely search for my stalker in his field yet had an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach as I passed his patch.
Suddenly from out of nowhere, this great ball of wool shot out next to me. "He's massive", I thought as I anchored the brakes, (As I ride a fixie, this involves trying to back pedal at the same time so as not to go over the handlebars.) I couldn't believe he had got out and was hot tailing it along the path.
Not an extraordinary story as yet, but suddenly in all the chaos he turned his head to look at me. "No f@#king way", I thought as his dark orbs held my gaze. There was this mass of quadruped, wool coat to boot pacing my now 15-18 mph along the path. The look in his eye was definitely that euphoric gaze of "watch me pal and eat my dust, YEAHHHHHH". He continued alongside me for around 20-30 metres and took a right through an open gate. I am sure as he left the track he did a victory leap, he was certainly bleating all the way home. I had been so shocked by it all I had not stopped but had just tried to remain calm and not hit him or a tree. Once he had returned to his abode I managed to pull over and regain my composure. Of course I dropped in to see the farmer to advise him that a gate had been left open and went on about my business.
However, I saw my new friend the following night and have decided that the look he gives me now is pretentious and self venerating. I can hear him in my head (Robbie Coltrane's voice again), "Ah you idiot beings ha ha ha, I'm super-sheep. You may have opposable thumbs and machines to ride but I can hold my own in a race against you." And more devilish laughter "HAHAHAHAHA."
As I said earlier, it is most likely just the loss of liquid that is responsible for the languidness and the imagination running on overtime, yet I still feel that this is what he is thinking. Either way I give him an equally distasteful look in return. One conveying, "You're fast pal, but not fast enough to outrun the meat cleaver." I pull a wry smile his direction and lick my lips. "Mmmm lamb chops for tea tonight." I think.
Have a great day all
Mark
