Road Hazards - Errant Projectile

Whooda thunk? Almost taken down by a blistering, errant golf ball from 1 o'clock. Direct hit to the face.

I had just finished a quick 15 miles on a beautiful early evening here in the Puget Sound. Rolling quick, slight down hill - past Wayne Golf Course. Bam. Direct hit on the right lower cheek. It definitely jarred me, but I stayed up right on the bike. I pulled over and was bleeding. I was torqued to say the least, but OK. Spun around, tried to find the dimpled, spherical weapon and scanned the course for any person that had this ... oh shit, I just hit a cyclist look on their face. No ball to be found and no guilty golfer. Off I went - a mile to home base, still smarting in the face.

The quickness with which your own time-space continuum can change, is simply unbelievable. Granted, only my ego was hurt and a little blood shed - but it does not take much to send one careening into disarray and chaos. On my last mile home, I pondered my riding and the inherent risks. I won't tell you how my pondering ended up, but tomorrow, I'll hit the pedals and ride out, again. I get so much from riding, there is no second guessing or reconsidering why I do it. It is a forgone conclusion, riding for me will always be.

Cheers!