On my way to Herrick, SD, I stopped to take a leak. If I have a choice, I prefer to pee on something rather than into something. So I stopped on some road to do my thing and dammit if I didn't feel a pinch on my right bicep. The pinch became a sting, which then became a red hot, searing pain....instead of unzipping my pants I started to tear off my jacket....and found this:
I don't know how long the bee had been in my jacket, but I figure once I got off and started to move around it got angry and decided to kill itself.
No big deal....I did my thing and hopped back on the bike into rural SD. I'd noticed in Nebraska that the birds are suicidal. And SD was no different. They fly directly into your path as if it's some machisimo game they play to impress the local chickadees. I'd grown tired of it and stopped even paying much attention (they're good). So 20 miles or so after the beesting I came upon a gaggle of 8-10 small goose-like/partridge/mini-pheasant like birds on the opposite side of the road. 50 feet away three of them decided to run--right into my path.
Now when crazy shit happens on the street that doesn't demand a reaction I don't react. And this was no different. When birds want to commit suicide, I'll deal with it at the car wash. So throttle on I pushed forward....the first bird barely avoided the front 120. The second? Decided breaking every bone in my foot was worth dying for.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I felt that instant, painful, throbbing, explosive, crushed, swelling feeling you get when bones break. I couldn't shift and half of my concentration was spent on confusion. I pulled in the clutch, rolled to a stop and inspected the damage, but the pain was increasing and I didn't even have duct tape. I really thought my ride might be over. Accelerating back up to speed I had to use my left hand.