How to Scare the GU Out of Me, Part 37

Join two of your hunting buddies in wearing camouflage clothes while hiding out in the browned-out brush of a harvested Illinois cornfield at 7:00 A.M. on an eerily foggy September morning and then at the exact moment The Diesel and I ride past you — not 25 yards away on what we thought was a deserted farm road — leap up and fire your three shotguns in unison at an unsuspecting flock of pheasants barely visible through the thick fog. Holy crap, man! Whatever Floyd Landis took was like watered-down Gatorade compared to the adrenaline that those gunshots sent blasting through my body. From 23 to 35 MPH in .02 seconds.

Once the shots stopped reverberating, thoughts turned to Deliverance scenarios and how easy it would be for a whacko hunter to pick off two guys whose bright cycling clothes were shining like beacons through the fog. All through the rest of our ride, scattered gunfire echoed across the wide open prairies and annoyed hunters in big pickups buzzed us a couple of times.

Google tells me that September 1 is the first day of the hunting season for game birds on Illinois preserves. Note to self: Next year either stay in town and ride on hunter-free city streets or pack Winchester 12-gauge in cycling jersey pocket.