“We had a deal!”

In this piece, I describe a rather gruesome event. Reader discretion advised…

This morning on my ride I narrowly averted hitting a cat. It started out in front of me, I swerved, it stopped. Hitting it would have been quite unpleasant, I’m sure.

In addition to the countless bugs I’ve put to death on my rides (and for whom I have no sympathy), I did have one run in with an animal, the memory of which sticks with me to this day. I was cruising along on the Osan River trail when I came upon a small group of pigeons roaming around at the edge of the path. Most of them took flight or walked further into the grass as I approached, but one, just as I was passing, did an about-face and walked right into the path of my front tire.

It was not pretty. And the fact that it happened right in front of families who were out for a stroll on a beautiful day probably made it worse for some. I remember clearly a few things: he offered very little resistance; he made a distinct and sickening crunching sound; and he flopped in a mass of feathers as I looked over my shoulder to see the aftermath. In the time since, they’ve put up signs under the bridges saying “don’t feed the pigeons.” I’ve noticed fewer now if any, and perhaps it was that enough of them got hit by cyclists the city decided to do something about it.

And so now, of course, every time we approach a flock of pigeons, a certain Seinfeld episode comes to mind, and I can’t pass them without yelling out George’s hilarious line: “We had a deal!”