Maddog 3: Bitches 0

Two weekend rides. Crank burning rides. Dogs chase. Dogs lose. Bitches.

So dogs in Tennessee love to give chase. It's rather predictable, actually. Zoning laws in TN are rather arbitrary: in one locale, you can go from high end to trailer skirts in about 5 pedal strokes. But when you see a cluster of manufactured housing, you know there's a good chance a dog chase is imminent. One trailer cluster usually means dog tied to a rope to a tree. A cluster of trailers and the odds of at least 3 dogs off leash in one yard are pretty high.

The game works this way: at about 200 yards they pick up the whine of your chain or tires on the road. The littlest one's yap first. This gets the chaser dog's attention and they snub their smoke out and figure their angles to intercept. Now, fortunately, I've hit most of these cluster on a flat or slight downhill--the tension rises as the terrain climbs, but for some odd reason, uphill climbs have God's mercy. Downhill or flats is where the game is played.

If you spot a cluster of mobiles, there's only one thing to do: gear up, hammer down. If you can get at least 20mph 100 yards out the odds are even. Stroke it up to 23-25 and the god's begin to favor you. 50 yards is the usual site line for the bitches. They are prepped and ready, but need visual confirmation to classify chain whine before they can legally (dog coda) start the pursuit. They are fast, so by 49 yards out, they've snuffed out their cigarette and they engage the lycra clad prey.

25 yards out, they are a couple miles per hour slower, but are trying to figure the angle against yard debris, forever-parked-cars, and assorted outside storage detritus. For some unexplained reason, however, front yards are rather more pristine than expected and provide some favor-ability for the canine sprint.

At 5 yards, you're taking stock: is this going to end in a tie-goes-to-the-animal-with-the-most-teeth? Minor course and cadence corrections are needed. At one yard, you know you've won. So does the dog, but courtesy calls for at least 25 more yards of chase before the bitch throttles down and turns back for a well deserved smoke. I coast, savor the victory, but the barks alert the next pack of mongrels to my course.

D'em bitches! (By the way: I highly recommend "Raging Bitches"-- a great blend of belgian style and IPA beer.