I was booking (Rhode Islandese for hauling a$$) down some fairly tight single track yesterday afternoon when I spotted a red squirrel down the trail. He was on the end of a tall thin sapling branch overhanging the trail and appeared to be struggling with some sort of big nut, probably an acorn. I'm on my single speed, which is pretty quite and stealthy, and he doesn't see me until it's too late. So he's pretty startled and looks to be in some sort of semi-panicked and indecisive state of mind. It was kind of funny watching him because I can sympathize with his feelings of being caught with his pants down.
As you probably know, squirrels are normally extremely agile and flighty creatures, but when their simple minds are preoccupied with loving his acorn, their agility sort of goes out the window.
Anyhow, time seemed to slow down. I'm watching this poor guy struggle and wonder what he's going to do. His eyes are bugging out of his head as he clumsily struggles with his nut. As I approach him, his options keep dwindling and I wonder to myself, "what if that little bugger falls on me?"
Well the next thing I know, that's exactly what happened. He ungracefully dismounts from his perch on the branch and start his flailing descent. I kind of duck my head and the next thing I'm aware of is him landing on my head! I must have screamed like a little girl because my riding buddy behind me yelled, "Are you alright?!?!" I can hear and feel his little claws furiously digging for traction on my helmeted head. He then finishes his dive by ackwardly plopping on the ground
As I mentioned, time seemed to slow and I was having one of those moments when your thinking becomes very clear. My mind can't let go of that picture I saw here here on MTBR somewhere of a poor red squirrel all hemmed up in somebody's brake disc, hoping that this guy wouldn't face the same fate. The other mental image I see is a scene from one of the Mony Python movies (I think) of the attacking rabbits latched onto my unsuspecting face.
Thankfully that didn't happen. After his unceremonious landing, he staggers off the trail. But I had to laugh because that little guy never let go of his acorn! It reminded me of the opening scene in the movie "Ice Age" where that primitive little squirrel is toiling with his nut.
As you probably know, squirrels are normally extremely agile and flighty creatures, but when their simple minds are preoccupied with loving his acorn, their agility sort of goes out the window.
Anyhow, time seemed to slow down. I'm watching this poor guy struggle and wonder what he's going to do. His eyes are bugging out of his head as he clumsily struggles with his nut. As I approach him, his options keep dwindling and I wonder to myself, "what if that little bugger falls on me?"
Well the next thing I know, that's exactly what happened. He ungracefully dismounts from his perch on the branch and start his flailing descent. I kind of duck my head and the next thing I'm aware of is him landing on my head! I must have screamed like a little girl because my riding buddy behind me yelled, "Are you alright?!?!" I can hear and feel his little claws furiously digging for traction on my helmeted head. He then finishes his dive by ackwardly plopping on the ground
As I mentioned, time seemed to slow and I was having one of those moments when your thinking becomes very clear. My mind can't let go of that picture I saw here here on MTBR somewhere of a poor red squirrel all hemmed up in somebody's brake disc, hoping that this guy wouldn't face the same fate. The other mental image I see is a scene from one of the Mony Python movies (I think) of the attacking rabbits latched onto my unsuspecting face.
Thankfully that didn't happen. After his unceremonious landing, he staggers off the trail. But I had to laugh because that little guy never let go of his acorn! It reminded me of the opening scene in the movie "Ice Age" where that primitive little squirrel is toiling with his nut.
