Slapped With Pigeon Shit

Coastal Mountains, British Columbia
July, ’80

Very carefully I climbed over the barbed wire fence that was between
the barn and me. Then I lifted my bike (around 75 lbs.) over the fence
and carried it. I didn’t want to wake up with another punctured tire.
After trudging through a field of knee high grass, I walked the last
fifty yards across ankle deep mushy cow dung. When I arrived at the
barn soaked from the waist down, I found so much water falling through
the roof that I had to put up my tent anyway–inside the barn. I
actually had a hard time determining the driest spot to erect my tent.
Finally, after shedding my wet pants and crawling into my tent, I
realized that I hadn’t noticed the roosting pigeons in the barn’s
rafters. Lying in my damp (almost wet) sleeping bag, and listening to
a mixture of raindrops and pigeon shit slap the outside of my tent, I
had finally arrived at day’s end of the worst bicycling imaginable, and,
as such, I vowed I would never spend another night in the rain.

I’m sick of being in, riding in, and feeling rain in my face. Right
now I’m going to take off this wet jacket and crawl further down into
my warm sleeping bag (yes, goose down is warm even when wet) and
block out from my mind this whole mind-numbing experience. And don’t
give me that crap about “been there done that” because I refuse to even think it!
I’m wet, miserable, and sick to my stomach. Goodnight!


About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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9 Responses to Slapped With Pigeon Shit

  1. dogear6 says:

    Oh man. Double ewwww!

  2. I clearly spoke to soon, yesterday…

  3. mavimet says:

    So much of your trips are wonderful, but the last couple of days sure don’t fit into that category.

  4. carlaat says:

    Just caught up on your recent posts. Seems I came in during a particularly rainy portion. I remember from hiking – rain is no fun. And bicycling in it sounds even less fun. At least hiking I could put up my umbrella, which I always did! 🙂

  5. Wondering now that you look back, what your thoughts are?

    • bwinwnbwi says:

      When I reflect on the above experience I cringe. That was the worst bicycle weather of my life. Three days of being wet, cold, alone, and questioning whether or not my bicycle trip was over, was incredibly depressing. The only other time I was in as bad a situation was when I was run over by a truck (deliberately) in Montana (my first bicycle trip). I survived back then and I survived this time too. I hopped on a train that would take me through the bad weather and drop me off in more favorable weather conditions. Best of all, in my old age, I have something of interest to post on postaday2011. Thanks for all the comments.

  6. Sordid affair!…I can’t imagine sleeping through something like that!

  7. ElizOF says:

    It’s good luck, no? 🙂

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