They were there again on my ride home. Mocking me and hissing at me. The Canada geese.
I am assuming most of you do not know the sordid history I have with these beasts. In short, they defile the bike path in Milwaukee from the lagoon near Veteran's Park to the southern edge of Lake Shore State Park, a stretch of about 2 miles. During much of the year, the geese annoy but do nothing more owing chiefly to a lack of rain (meaning things are dry). However, I encountered near disaster last year while riding to work in the fall. After a stretch of wet weather, I found myself negotiating ice-like conditions on the bike path due to an astonishing amount of goose guano covering the path. The nauseating green covered some sections of the path in its entirety. The grass did not provide a viable option because a) it was wet and b) it too was copiously fertilized. Remarkably, I floated over the slick surface with only minimal, though terrifying, fish-tailing. During this delightful stretch of my commute, I endured the hisses and mocking stares of the massive gaggle of geese lined up along either side of the path like so many enraged tifosi at the sight of a nemesis leaving their hero behind (I can dream, no?).
Once I reached the office, I quickly forgot about the geese and their public displays of filth. The respite proved short-lived. Exactly 10 hours later, I traveled the same area. This time, I stayed on the other side of Lincoln Memorial Drive and laughed at the pathetic pests sitting impotently on the lagoon side of the road. Filled with hubris, I turned east and headed through Lake Shore State Park. The evening sun still lit the sky and the crisp fall winds lifted my spirits. I crossed the bridge onto the Park's peninsula and swooped through along the path, carrying speed into a blind corner ...
I rode into the rear guard of geese, perhaps 15 or so standing square in the middle of the path. Being in only partial possession of my faculties, I opted to scream at the birds rather than modulate my speed and wait for them to move off the path. This had the effect of alarming the animals. The immediately took to the air, which is not exactly an apt description of a large bird such as a goose taking flight. Rather, they immediately attempted to take to the air. Filled with adrenalin and poorly controlled anger, I may have even pedaled harder. As I approached the small gaggle, three or four of the geese were only five or ten feet above me and just a few feet ahead of me.
Something happened. Something unpredictable and horrifying: those three or four geese started defecating. I know of no other less crass way to put it. They started dropping bombs on me. I swerved and braked and nearly laid the bike down as the enormous green pellets dropped to the earth. Soon they were high in the air over the lake and I made it through the gauntlet physically unscathed though psychologically shaken. What madness is this, I thought?
Soon, every time I rode this stretch of bike path I looked out for the geese, fearful of the nefarious traps they might have laid for me. Resisting the urge to go Carl Spackler on them, I told myself they were just animals without the capacity to plan or to harbor ill will toward me. Nevertheless, I remain wary of the beasts and got a little jumpy on the ride home today when I noticed they are back on the lake front and out in force.
PC
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