Buck Wild

Fall Ride

Learning to ride again with the weight of her over my back tire was fun. I felt like a kid again, adjusting my balance to steady myself and steer properly with her in her bike seat. Maneuvering the bike along the mountain trail was getting a bit easier as we rode and I was pleased to feel the frigid fall breeze on my face. The yellow and red leaves fluttered through the air, dancing in the wind before they rested on the dewey morning grass. The river was full, flirting with the idea of flooding over her banks. We had several days of cold rain, however, the sun was shining brightly today. The full sun and biting cold was pleasant, a taste of winter wind mixed with a splash of summer sun.

Tula was giggling at the sight of the helicoptering leaves falling. She made me feel happy inside. We usually walked the path that followed the river, but she tended to get weary after a short time on the trail. I thought I would remedy this by purchasing a child seat to carry her on the back of my bike. We were riding at a good clip and I was able to take in the beauty of the scenery. The river was green with white catapulting currents that churned and spat foam onto the rocks.

The trees had a callous, crisp glow. The sun burned their bark as if it were hardening their trunks in preparation for the season to come. I could see the unique patterns that were in the bark of the Black Walnut and Sycamore Trees. Patterns like fingerprints with endless maps of mazes unsolvable to my eyes. As I rode, I gained speed and felt confident on the bike. I watched the forest speeding by like a movie in fast forward, a Weeping Willow, a Sycamore, a group of young saplings. I became comfortable and my mind slowed the process down. I could see patterns in the bark on the trees, even at this pace. As I concentrated on the trail and the trees; the peeling, washed out, white bark of a Sycamore and the endless brown packed earth continuously flowing beneath my tires. I let my mind wander like a daydreaming child to the trees in front of me, imagining which would be the best to climb.

To my right I saw a flash of movement, as I heard the loud, bellowing grunt. Tula didn't cry at first. She was silent. Was she alive? Was she in shock? My front tire had been lifted off the ground and pushed sideways. My bike had flown into the air and landed on the left side. I was removed from my bike abruptly. My face bounced off the trail with a thud. I didn't lose consciousness, the first sensation I noticed besides pain was a metallic taste in my mouth. I tasted blood. Then I heard it, snorting in my ear. I turned my head to the right and started to get an idea of what was happening. A buck in rut had hit us. He looked to be about a two years old. He was mad as heck that we got between him and his male rival on the other side of the path.

His left hoof was caught between the spokes of my front tire. His antler was wedged between my front forks and my spokes. He was angrily thrashing at the bike to untangle himself. Just be still and hold the bike so he can free himself, I thought. He began to flail. This movement raised the bike and Tula started to cry. She was ok. However, she was strapped into the bike seat by a seatbelt. She was three years old and had not yet figured out how to use buckles. I tried to reach up my left arm and unbuckle her without further startling the stag. He stood.

I was still face down on the trail with my arm reaching for Tula's buckle. He began to try and run. The entangled hoof came free. His antlers were holding us hostage. The left antler was lodged tightly between the forks and the tire. I could see that it was not going to come free without my help. I could leave him to work out this entanglement for himself as long as I could free Tula from her seat. I reached back with both hands and got myself into a crouched position. He began to run. The bike was moving and he dragged us along. I had to stop him before he ran with Tula strapped in and flung me from the bike. This could end in the stag bouncing her off of the trees like a pinball in a machine or taking her straight into the river. I feared the worst.

I tackled the stag to the floor, the weight of the bike attached to his rack helped me knock him back onto the ground quickly. I hit him in the shoulder area and was able to grab at his front legs with my hands. This knocked him to his side. I immediately locked my hands onto to the rack. I pinned his right antler firmly to the ground. My left had scratched and clawed at the deer to get his head smashed to the floor. I knew from my old wrestling days that head control meant everything in a fight, and I could tell I was definitely in a fight. If I pinned his head I could possibly choke him by placing my knee in his throat. I lunged my left hand downward with all my might and punched the deer with my hand and forearm. I couldn't muster enough muscle to do any damage. My best efforts were equivalent to annoying. He lurched up and pulled the whole heap of us forward. The bike was still firmly lodged in his antlers and I was not letting my grip loose. I figured if I hung on, the least I could do is dig my heels in and slow him down until he fell again. My head landed on his ribcage, I lifted my head and shoulder and crashed them down into the same spot three times. I was dizzy from the consecutive jolts to my own skull. Clean shots. That is all I could think when I could see straight again. I landed some good clean shots. He slowed his breath. I laid myself on top of him at his shoulder girdle. I was able to manage enough force to momentarily calm him. The stag ceased to struggle as he caught his breath and then regained some of his previous momentum.

"Oh, My!" Screamed a jogger running the trail, she came running over to help. The buck jerked and we started to jostle again, I pressed down with everything I had, the buck and I were breathing hard and grunting, . The woman went to the carriage and unsnapped the buckle freeing Tula and dragging her backwards to safety. At that moment I dove in the direction of Tula and released the angry buck. The bike went with him as I had suspected and bounced off of one tree. The carriage broke loose on the bank and tumbled into the river as the deer bounded through the water. A ride we will never forget.