This Sunday I went out for a solo 67 mile ride from Austin, TX to Bastrop, TX. The scenery consisted of beautiful farm country and huge family-owned plots of land. To keep myself entertained, I made animal sounds at every farm creature I passed: I’d bark at most dogs knowing they were safely fenced in. It became a game – all the dogs gave friendly ‘hello-barks’. Except this dog.

About 10 miles into my return ride, I came to a hill. The hill screamed at me, “turn around, you should not have done this.” To which I replied, “your mom.” I put my bike in the lowest possible gear and decided this hill would either make or break my ride. One pedal-turn gained me only about 4 inches of road: a challenge I gladly accepted.
Making it to the top gave me this huge sense of satisfaction. I had not walked that bike up the hill. I was tired, worn out, and not ready to ‘Hulk smash’ Fido.

The hill-top was not as imagined…

After climbing that hill, I expected girls in bikinis to hand out water, fellow cyclists to pat me on the back , and Mufasa to smile down from the clouds.

After passing 15 fenced-in dogs along the ride, it took me a few moments and some of my own barks to understand that a pack of three (#16, #17, and #18) were charging full-speed from a non-fenced house. I pedaled like a cartoon character, finding myself still in “granny gear,” and went nowhere.

The snarling badass-of-the-pack smashed headfirst into my rear pannier, jamming my bag into the spokes and sending me into a small ditch on the other side of the street.

I composed myself, took stock of the situation, and grabbed my frame-pump in an effort to look bigger. Two of the three dogs backed off, but the head of the pack stayed for a fight.

A car passed by, the driver no doubt wondered why I was in a ditch holding a frame-pump in the air.

I tried to look big, and failed miserably.

I pulled the pannier out from my spokes and, careful to keep the bike between myself and the dog, walked to the next house. Though that hill had taken all the energy out of me, I had enough adrenaline for the next 15 miles.

Lessons learned:

• Don’t bark at dogs unless you know they can’t get to you.
• Looking bigger works for some dogs, but not insane ones.
• Walking away may be the best bet for territorial dogs. 
• Dogs do not know that roads are public spaces. Someone should tell them.

Preparation for our long distance ride:

• Picking up a small can of Mace.
• Getting an air-horn.
• Not barking at dogs (as much).
• Working on the whole looking bigger thing.

Tips and tricks for dealing with dogs:

• Outrun the dog. If you already have a good speed, putting a good burst of your own energy will tire that pup out quick and it’ll realize you are the cheetah in this race. I did this with one dog, and it gave me a nice little ego boost as well.
• Air horn or ‘doggy-horn.’ Picking up a small air horn will not only scare the kibbles and bits out of the dog, but will bring attention if you are in true danger. There are some ultra-sonic dog repellents out in the market which send sound waves only dogs can hear.
• Mace the face. We are keeping mace on our bikes for dogs that get too close for comfort. Make sure you are not on private property before spraying; this will help avoid the inevitable legal issues if you attack a dog in its own yard.
• Move from their territory. Most dogs will lose interest once you pass by their territory. Use this to your advantage and just move away from their domain.
• Call the cops. If you find yourself in a life-threatening situation, such as being cornered by a pit bull or doberman pinscher, we suggest keeping the bike between you and the dog and calling the cops right away. Not only is your own safety at stake, but the owner needs to take responsibility and face repercussions.

The tips listed above are how we plan to deal with dogs. Feel free to choose your own “weapon” from any of these resources: Crazyguyonabike.com, Pearlandcyclingclub.com or by searching Google for “dealing with dogs, cycling.”

For the fun of it, here is the house where the dogs came from:

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Image Credit: Milqito and hand-nor-glove