I got up this morning and looked outside to see a random dog had “nested” (no other word describes what I saw) at the very back of my property – just under a Leyland Cypress where my neighbor’s yard borders mine. The dry grass clippings, now very brown, were the ‘bed.’

I usually look outside on Saturday morning very early to determine who kind of clothing I’m going to need for my ride. Naturally the random dog stood out like a skinny Santa on Madison Avenue. I opened the door – yelled at dog and it lazily got up and started moving. What was really bad – the dog’s testicles were hanging at least a foot below it’s belly. Something was definitely wrong with the random dog. This started my day.

Ok then. I got going and traveled a back road to Six Mile. To my surprise, along Piney Flats Road, a large German Shepard is blocking the road. As I roll toward the dog, it barks violently and turns its head down. At that moment I asked a question out loud, “did random dog send out a nasty gram in my honor?” Never mind the fact that three dogs chased me PRIOR to Mr. German Shepard. HUH? What, did these dogs get Viagra for Christmas – or a special dog nip!

I called the police on my cell phone while I walked my bike past the dog – with camera in hand to capture the insanity …

Alright – I continue down the road … and head toward Monroe County – turning on Highway 72 and circle back to Highway 129 – just so I know the distance from Big Gully Road to 129 (it’s 3.1 miles). I back track down 72 and head toward Knox County. When I reach Highway 411 (near Lenoir City) I meet up with four biking buddies that I know. Coincidentally this was the right time to circle back and head toward home. I need 100 miles and that was my turning point – and that’s certainly enough for a Saturday ride.

One of my buddies said he would show me an alternate route back to Maryville and so we split off from the other guys and headed into town via Niles Ferry. With a couple of switch backs through a neighborhood here and there we found ourselves nearing the Maryville Greenway.

I recognized the roads at that point and had a clear understanding of my route home. As we ascend a small hill, Trent (my buddy that I’m following) says, “left turn.” Ok. Left turn. I look back and see a car coming at me — and slow down to a crawl — then when I believe the driver is aware that we’re making a left turn I lead the turn and expect Trent to follow me.

Nope. The driver didn’t stop. In fact, as I’m turning left I see the car (it was red) coming at me and so I stand up on the peddles to brace for the impact. I hear a terrific screech of tires and then I feel the energy of the car shuttering though my left leg. The distance between the stopped car and my left leg was less than 2″.

The noun, “close call,” was what I experienced today. So f’ing close that I’m counting it as a true accident. Trent talked about it for the next 10 miles and nothing else. During the red-car-encounter, he was watching with (as he says), “an open mouth … unable to say anything.”

Even the cars approaching from the opposite way were stopped and dumbfounded that the red car coming at me, DIDN’T hit me.

I was literally on the yellow line turning left when the red car was trying to pass me/us to go around. WTF. How CRAZY is that? I’m turning left and a car behind me attempts to go around us while we’re turning. Has the human race lost its ability to think and operate motor vehicles concurrently?

The woman was shaken and very upset. Trent went up to her and politely said, “that’s why you don’t pass on a double yellow line.”

I blew her a kiss and THANKED her for not hitting me.

Something bigger than the woman kept me from getting nailed. I’m convinced of it. Shall we say, ‘whew.’

Be safe out there.