In my area we have one species of monkey. It is the red face and ass Macaque Macaca Fuscata, found only in Japan. Some of you may have seen these so called 'adorable' critters they show lounging in the hot springs in some tourist brochures. Since they have no predators, aside from the occasional irate farmer who has decided to take no more from the buggers constantly raiding his fields or orchards, (and no, we don't eat their brains over here), so their numbers are steadily increasing, to the point where they are all over the place certain times of the year, when they filter out of the mountains looking for food. One otherwise unordinary pleasant afternoon I was tooting on the DeRosa up a long and fairly steep hill, through a area that these monkeys are known to frequent, a place where I usually don't ride much. I saw a group of them on the road and up in the trees, generally being their obnoxious selves by trying to shake stuff down upon me from above. Usually the ones on the road hear, see, or smell you coming, and move off into the brush out of sight. That was what I expected, when just as I passed them, suddenly out of the pack this rather unhappy looking fellow tears out after me. Since it was along a quite steep hill, there was little chance of out running the thing. He runs up along the side of me making loud screeching sounds and bareing his teeth, and with saliva flying he keeps trying to take a bite out of my leg. I started swerving all over the place, kind of panicking because he wouldn't let up. My leg going around in circles and the irregular route I was taking gave him problems, so he couldn't quite zero in on the drum stick, but he wasn't missing by much. It went on like this for about a hundred yards, and especially with the adrenalin pumping, I started to really get pooped out. No matter what the charming photos show, the males can get rather large and muscular, and standing up on his hind legs he would be easily above my saddle height, so the last thing I wanted was any intimate contact with the fiend, and a heart attack seemed like the lesser of the evils, so I kept on pumping for all I was worth. Perhaps he became tired too, or his big showoff for the ladies was sufficient, and he stopped chasing me and sat down in the road. I stopped to catch my breadth about forty yeards ahead, and damn if the sucker doesn't start walking towards me again. I didn't think I had it in me to try the same getaway, and by the time I got on the bike and was in the toe clips again moving up the hill, he would easily be upon me. I layed the bike down and picked up a somewhat large tree branch that with luck was close by (true story!). This seemed to make him reassess the situation, and he started moving off in a perpindicular direction, somewhat aided by a few large rocks aimed in his direction. People tell me that such attacks are a rarity, but I really don't much trust these animals. So, now when I ride where they tend to hang out, I'm packing a 44 magnum squirt gun filled with powerful toilet bowl cleaner. OK hairy punk, make my day!
Dennis Young Hotaka, Japan (Where they have assenine gun laws, but self defense is available in the cleaning section of the supermarket)
> day I was riding my McLean tourer because my butt was sore from =3D
> so much riding lately and this bike has the worlds' most comfortable =3D
> Brooks saddle. Not a go-fast bike, but still respectable. Two deer =3D
> started to jump a fence and cross the road in front of me but saw me =3D
> just about the time I saw them. They turned in a panic and started =3D
> running on the other side of the fence in the same direction I was =3D
> going. I was on a long down hill stretch of road and as soon as I saw =
> =3D
> this I accelerated as fast as I could after them them. They jumped out =
> =3D
> to a lead of about 40 yards in a heartbeat, but I was rocking and =3D
> rolling as fast as these 60+ year old legs would drive the bike. I =3D
> started doing my best imitation of a "Rebel yell" and whooped and =3D
> hollered at them like a rodeo hand "Go deer! Go Yee-haw!" They =3D
> couldn't gain any more ground on me and I chased them whooping and =3D
> hollering and laughing like an idiot for at least another quarter mile =
> =3D
> before they got smart enough to turn off. I felt absolutely =3D
> exhilarated. Later, on remainder of the ride I grinned to myself and =
> =3D
> tried to imagine what anyone seeing this spectacle would have thought. =
> =3D
> Here's this old guy on an old high end touring bike racing downhill =3D
> after two does, whooping and hollering...darn near catching them, too!
> Now I can't say for sure why other folks ride bikes, but for me this =3D
> captured the idea of fun on a bike about as well as anything I have ever =
> =3D
> done. I got in about 40 miles and felt really invigorated. When I got =
> =3D
> home my wife had the best glass of iced tea waiting for me I've ever =3D
> had. The Sun is shining...Life is good...and deer are in the meadow...
> Tom Sanders
> Lansing, Mi