I am not an expert on mountain goats (British Alpine goats being my specialty), but I believe that was a mating ritual was it not? The question is was he seeking union with the Gary Fisher, Mr. Sunderlage, or did he believe they were one in the same? That’s even a more cool story than when a hawk thought my red helmet was his next meal and almost knocked me off my serotta.
Of course Rick now has a great story every time someone asks how his GF got banged up.
What’s a Chupacabra? Sounds like something from the local Taco Time.
Still looking to give FC’s fixie to anyone who will tell me how to get my name to show in this stupid new setup…
Hilarious "interview"! I sometimes have the same interviews of myself in my head – wait, was I talking out loud again? I can’t believe Rick S. (not his real name) kept riding uphill after getting attacked – I would say he’s a hero but seems more like an unwise move. Quick thinking to use his GF as a shield but I feel bad for GF. GF is the real hero, taking one for his owner!
Will there ever be a contest for guessing Rick Sundererladgines (whatever) real name?
Garlic works for goat vampires also.
Comment by BotchedExperiment | 09.18.2006 | 5:57 pm
This is one of the best things ever published on the internet. If I were reviewing this post, I’d give it a score of 98% as good as the Gettysberg Address.
Rick Sunderlage (not your real name), by becoming that goat’s bitch, you’ve done us all a disservice. Now that little prick thinks he can own any biped bipedaling on that trail. The appropriate course of action would have been to take him on and establish dominance. Since you failed to do that, I suggest you find a pair of those old Scott Bushwhacker bars and re-establish your position as an apex predator.
P.S. B21, just ask dug for explicit instructions as to how to sign up for a profile and get Windows Live to recognize it. Apparently, it’s very, very simple. Just call him at home.
I see a lot of fascinating parallels between this encounter and the recently expired Vuelta. There sure was a proliferation of attacking in both. Are you sure the "goat" wasn’t Vinokourov wearing some sort of ceremonial headpiece?
Has anyone else noticed how the photo of el Chupacabra looks a lot like a mother-in-law? Is it a coincidence that Chupacabra and my mother-in-law both eat raw livestock? Will I ever sleep soundly again knowing that she’s out there stalking bike riders?
Rik – if that is in fact not your real name - I so would have tried to kill and eat that damn thing. What were you thinking? You’d have to be careful about not getting kicked to death, or as Barry noted above, getting bent over, and mounted, prison-goat-style, though that might be interesting if you’re one of those "back to nature" types. Your mountain bike has skewers holding the wheels on right? A skewer in the eye would probably do the trick. That, or maybe you could have tangled it in the frame, and then beaten it to death with a handy rock – similar to a lot of mountain bike crashes I’ve had, except that I throw myself at the rocks, rather than vice versa. (A Slingshot MTB would have been very handy here, what with its built-in combination wire downtube/garotte). Caveats about not trying this at home, and Al is a professional animal/human abuser apply here, it would be dangerous as all heck, but you could consider it a challenge, like climbing Mt. Washington or something, except with a yummy meal at the end of the climb. Man, if you attack me, and you happen to be a tasty and not-too-smart animal, you might as well have just emailed me a menu with you on it. Jamaican Jerked Goat, anybody? Hey, anybody got some Red Stripe? How did you miss this opportunity? Plus you would have the best bike story *evuh* that would totally put all your riding friends to shame for the rest of all time. "Yeah, I was riding up this hill, and this huge mountain goat attacked me, so I killed it with my Gary Fisher, gutted it with the bottle opener on my Surly Jethro Tool, and ate it trailside with some celery salt and a light dusting of crushed peppercorns, along with a side of spinach/arugula salad and house vinaigrette, and a delightful Chianti poured out of my camelback, which I always fill with vintage wine before rides like an old school Tour de France rider. It was tasty. I rulez…"
Maybe this is why I never get attacked by tasty animals… they see a fat bastid on a bike and know they are liable to end the encounter on my dinner plate. As for Fatty, I assume the goats are safe, unless they are of the breed with white stripes on their bellies, which makes them appear at a distance to be enormous, rolling Oreo cookies…
Yippee!! Thanks Botched. Dug wasn’t home but Kim was very helpful. Not only did she tell me how to get properly logged in, she’s sending glossy 8×10’s of her hanging out of the car at Latoja "with the load not properly tied down". She seems very friendly.
Double Yippee!! Al M is back. That’s like the ole lady making a second helping of spam for breakfast!
Here’s a wierd coincidence. I was riding in Denver yesterday, and just as I was concluding the ride, I came face to face with a four point bull elk. They had been bugling all day. He squared up, and decided I wasn’t cute enough. Thank goodness.
Riiiight…you guys are always getting attacked in the woods by ridiculous things- cross dressers, baby moose, mountain goats, people without their real names… seems kind of coincidental if you ask me. Maybe it’s not them, it’s YOU.
Comment by BotchedExperiment | 09.19.2006 | 6:09 pm
Out of deference to Bob, I haven’t mentioned the deer incident. For those of you that don’t know, Bob (of randomreviewer) was hit by a deer while riding his (bob, not deer) road bike. Yes, hit. By a deer. Broadsided. For those of you that do know of this incident, this is an opportunity to re-revel in the incident.
OF COURSE THE CHUPACABRA LIVES!!! Dont we all already know that? It is currently on its annual migration for the winter from the Texas gulf coast to Alaska. I hear it earned extra points for it’s cyclists tipping (much more difficult that cow tipping… hence the extra points scored… thanks for confirming his story).
Have any of you ever had a run in with the Donkey Lady??? huuga buuga… gives the the creeps just remembering my run in with it! I am one of the fortunate few who can tell the tale:-0
Glad you survived your encounter with the strange things that occupy the vast wilderness. Perhaps next you will meet Big Foot! (I doubt it… he is under contract with Nike’s research lab… too valuable to get his feet injured by some mountain biker with sweat in his eyes).
This is no name. Actually, my name is Rocky. I rode the Apex trail (that’s where they were bugling), and then I rode the Matthews/Winters Trail. It was on the end of the loop that drops down by the Morrison Road where mr. 4 points and I had our little encounter.