Ruff Riders: It’s a dog-bite-man world on the backroads of North Carolina
By John Rothchild
Take up cycling and you’re sure to get involved with the animal kingdom. In my first 5,000 miles, a mockingbird pecked me in the back, a seagull dropped a present on my head, a bee crash landed in the back of my throat and a golden retriever met with my front wheel (launching me over the handlebars).
This was Miami, where the wildest of the wildlife drive cars. One rear-ended me, and I luckily escaped with just a purple thigh. In Miami, compared with the drivers, the dogs are civilized. On the outskirts of Edenton, N.C., it’s the other way around.
We bought a home in the coastal flatlands: sleepy two-lanes, nice place to road bike. Or so I thought, until my exploratory spin, where I played fox to revved-up hounds from three different farms. I escaped by hitting speeds I’d never reach in a race. Let dogs loose at a starting line, and who’d need steroids? Read the full story