The Canadian Cobra Chicken Attacks

ago, describing how cycling can be incorporated into bird watching. This past month or so I’ve been dedicated to planning cycling routes into Calgary using the irrigation canal and trail system, passing by bird rich environments. There’s nothing like the challenge of attempting to defy one’s age, cycle a long distance, get fit and enjoy nature.
In mid May, gearing up to do a 100km ride was my intention and patience in reaching that goal is essential. Aging is an insidious process. The mind is young, the body isn’t. Heading out from the Cove, on a cold Wednesday morning, the goal was to visit Fish Creek Provincial Park and have a coffee at Annie’s Cafe before returning home. Wearing two pairs of gloves to maintain hot digits, the legs were limber and everything was going fine, until kilometre 14. This time of year birds and wildfowl are nesting and creating the next generation. Having ridden the irrigation canal over the past six years, I had always checked for nests and goslings. Normally a bell ringing and some speed are adequate to keep parents of goslings off to the side, with hisses being the worst reaction….. until it wasn’t.
Seeing a pair of geese at water’s edge down in the canal, I did a quick scout for a nest or goslings. Neither was present. However, a full grown goose gave me “the look”. An angry squawk and a Robert De Niro-like glare indicated clearly the goose had a “need for speed”. In seconds, the goose was airborne. Not overly alarmed I sped up slightly, believing the goose would quickly end its flight of rage. Heading west at 7:30AM provides the beauty of the sun behind a cyclist and gifts you your shadow. However I couldn’t but notice an additional shadow. Like a looming B-52, “the shadow”grew and the creak of a pair of wings was quite audible. While thinking about the shrinking gap between cyclist and goose, my De Niro, now a “Raging Bull”, struck. And hard. Hitting the back of my helmet solidly, the goose then ended its pursuit. In looking at my helmet, a chunk of moulding had been broken and was in my hood. Shrugging it off as an unusual experience, I arrived at Annie’s.
Once the return ride began, the mugging by the goose occupied my thoughts. I would have to ride by that same goose. Stopping at a bench near the Macron Performance Centre, a strategy became clear. Consume a significant quantity of Gatorade, approach the area, accelerate to a senior citizen Mach 1 speed and hope for the best.
Resuming the ride, providence intervened. My back tire was flat. Installing my spare tube after a few struggles didn’t improve things. It too, had a hole in it. The vision of walking by that goose, pushing a bike 14 kms filled my thoughts. On all cycling trips, a Plan B is necessary. On a folded piece of paper in my “wallet”, I had a list of cab company phone numbers. Somehow, Salomon found me in this odd location. With the bike loaded in his van, we engaged in a wonderful discussion and I made it home, flat tires and goose-free.