Mr. Jerry’s Wildlife Ride(s)

Good Lord! There is nothing quite like a pre-dawn encounter with a skunk while riding a motorcycle. I leaned into the curve on Shields Avenue and as I reached the apex and was about to lightly accelerate to come out and head down to Briggs I saw the white stripes, black as night body, and the waddling gait of an obstacle. Thank God He put those stripes on Mr. Skunk. I knew in a flash I was in trouble but what was I to do? I could break firmly and throw myself dangerously close to the retaining wall and chain link fence to pass in front of the poor animal. I could goose it and accelerate into the low inside part of the curve and into the oncoming lane to risk the far curb to pass behind but (or butt?) within range of the potent end of the little beast. This would have been the aggressive approach and for sure would have startled the skunk. I don’t know how fast he could have turned around and given me his opinion of the maneuver but I knew the option of running him over was bad for both of us. He would be dead and the bike and I would carry the evidence that folks downwind of us would recognize for quite some time. The calculations were nearly instantaneous. I opted to not panic but to slightly let off the gas and come out of the lean to pass dangerously close to the skunk’s weapon of choice praying for benevolence from my new friend. He somehow recognized that I had no ill intent toward him and completed his trek across Shields to continue up the embankment as though nothing had occurred and thus letting me make it to the office unmolested.

I have had other wildlife encounters on both two wheels and four; this is a two-wheeled account, self-propelled but two wheels nevertheless. There was a 5 year period of time when I rode a bicycle to work in the early mornings. Picture the YouTube video of the bicycle and the wild antelope. I was coming around Linda Vista before getting into the arroyo just where a little v-canyon comes down the mountain to the road. As the sun was going to break over the hills I saw a big deer, a four or five point buck, grazing about two feet from the curb. He rose up on his hind legs with his forelegs pawing the air. I thought he was going to give me a big head-butt and skewer me. Instead, he pirouetted and bound up into the canyon to the cover of darkness and the scrub oak. Exhilarating.

Back in the day, during an epic trip with my best friend Jim leading the way somewhere in Wyoming and in free range grazing area we were riding along a beautiful two-lane highway in the hills weaving our way along, he on his Honda 350 Scramble, me on my Honda CB500 Four. We came upon several steers grazing in the long grass on the outside of a corner in the lazy sunshine. Jim beeped his horn which sounded like the Road Runner with a cold but it had a profound effect on the cattle. The biggest of the bunch bellowed, shook his head in fright and anger before bounding across the road in front of me with the others rousing from their torpor to follow suit. The animal was huge and an impact with a ton of beef was unthinkable so I went into full avoidance mode and instantly banked left behind him. Then I cranked the accelerator, banked right and passed safely just in front of the others. At the time it was all slow motion in my mind. By the time we came to a stop at a pullout further up the road it was nearly stop-motion for both of us and we burst out laughing. Hey, when you are 18 it’s easy to laugh off close calls.

I’ve saved one of my favorites for last. It was on the same trip, part of a six thousand mile adventure and we were in Yellowstone National Park. Jim and I had a bear plan in place in the event that we came across one of the infamous bear-jams but never encountered any during our trip. We made camp near the visitor center our first night in the park. During the evening we heard the eerie bugling of elk echoing across the forested valley. It was awesome. The next day I took the lead as we worked our way through the park to see the sights on our way to the western entrance of the park. I had set a sedate pace through some of the most beautiful country we had seen up to this point in our trip. There was no traffic to speak of and we weren’t in a hurry preferring a gentle pace to wind through the forest. I came around a blind corner with a brush covered hillside to the inside and there she was, a full-grown female elk strolling across the road. She stopped, I stopped, and I can’t even recall if Jim caught up and ever saw her because I was instantly enthralled by her. She stood there looking at me as I stood over my bike a mere fifteen feet from her. Her eyes were huge and level with mine. I got enveloped by them as she wondered why I was there just as I wondered what she was doing in the middle of the road. It seemed to last for a very long time and etched itself into my memory. The sun-dappled road, the doe elk in her soft brown cloak worn with complete elegance. I uttered, probably stammered, a quick heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving as she turned and disappeared into the underbrush. No rush, she glided.