As promised here is the list of roadkill that I saw on the 700 miles that we rode through California. If you're squeamish, look away, or don't read it. I didn't look away. I saw it all. Took it in. I've also provided some musical selections that should help your perusal, they are noted with a (*.)
Skunk. (12) These little black and white stripey guys seem to be getting it all over California. I stopped counting at 12. This is not the state land mammal of any one of our fine fifty, which is a shame.
Possum. (3) It was two, and then on the last day I saw one. It reminded me of the time we did this ride and PVB and I saw a whole family of dead possum on the road. PVB rode up next to me, we made eye contact and spoke of it only to say we'd never speak of it again.
*Merle Haggard Mamma Tried
Sheep Head. That's all I saw. The head. We were grinding up a slow climb on the second or third day, coming out of SF when we saw this one. The funny thing is that when you're in this situation you think that you're the only one seeing the minutiae of the ride and then mention it, like I did, thinking you're some profit of roadkill and everyone goes "oh yeah, on the climb the second day, yeah, it was all withered and weird looking." Oh well.
Small Dog. With collar. The aforementioned Chihuahua. This time it was Cole and I that shared this ugly moment.
Potbelly Pig. Is this getting old yet?
* Conway Twitty's Its Only Make Believe.
Huge Fucking Snake. This thing had to be about 8 feet long and maybe 8 weeks dead. I rolled over it while Chad from the Sram support car (of course we had a Sram support car) pulled me back from 5 mile wrong turn. I remember thinking..."that is a huge fucking snake." No one else saw this one. Bam!
*George Jones The Race is On
Hawk, or Falcon. I'm not a bird expert. There is an article coming out in Embrocation Volume3 about one, but its not me. This was a really large bird with white and gold-ish looking feathers.
Deer. I kid you not, its smashed body was not ten feet from a Deer X-ing sign.
*My new favorite song is I Don't Want to Play House by Tammy Wynette
Various Birds. They're everywhere.
Rabbit. For some reason I remember not being surprised that this was the lump in the road I was facing.
Coyote. He looked like he was sleeping.
Pheasant. This was on the last climb on the last day. At this point I was looking for roadkill. I was all alone (off the front mind you) and scanning the roadside for anything to break up the road and this was it...
*Cue Marty Robbins I Walk Alone.
Lance Armstrong. Now, I know what you're thinking, but I know what I saw and that's what I saw. I saw it again this evening when I was perusing my new favorite industry blog/actual newswire that anyone should care about: the "What's New" section of Competitive Cyclists Road Department.
So, my question is. Why can this guy get away with anything? I mean, these shoes are hideous right? Is anyone in agreement with me? Apparently not, because of the 16,108 people that have looked at Lance's aptly named Twit Pic, more than a few have commented on how great they are. Not only have SIXTEEN THOUSAND PEOPLE looked at this photo, but a few have taken the time to comment on how they "Rawk."
Why has there been time taken out of some artists day to paint on something that:
a) is generally facing the ground.
b) will be trashed and scratched the first time it is worn, I mean, I had laser beams painted on the bottom of mine, but then I actually went for a ride in them. Oops, artwork gone.
PS. I'm going to be at the actual Tour of California and can someone inform Mr. Armstrong that he better show up in a Camaro with matching flames and a flaming jumpsuit or I'm going to be really, really disappointed.
* Cue Ring of Fire.
PSS. Can Yakima bring back this ad campaign please?