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At the end of a nice bimble so laid back and relaxed that it even involved a little nap under a tree while I sheltered from the rain, I decided on one last climb up an old overgrown track on the very last leg..
Not a route that I often take these days as it's just an old rutted farm track, typically Devonshire with 12 foot hedges each side, uninspiring and usually waterlogged.. still, tonight I went that way and was surprised to find that the bike almost rode itself up like it had a Hogwarts charm on it, surprising as my legs were pretty tired and I was looking forward to getting home..
As I crested the brow, looking forward to the short descent littered with drops and drainage channels, imagine my surprise at seeing an enormous Charolais bull... with absolutely no room to squeeze past or for him to manoeuvre, and my terrified and panic stricken heart beating out of my chest I spun the bike around and pedalled for my life..
I remembered the red flashing lights I was sporting and pedalled harder, imagining him chasing me all the way home, my already maxed out HR now being pushed higher and higher by panic and exhaustion..
Of course, once I had put at least three miles between me and the big fella, I knew that the red lights wouldn't have interested him, and that probably in all honesty he'd barely noticed me.. That even if he had, he was probably still stood in the same spot casually scrumping blackberries and letting out a bemused chuckle at the terrified little oik that had just broken all possible strava records for that segment..
Now that bull was huge.. he had massive teeth in his bloodstained maw and 70 horns.. how I escaped his rampaging madness alive and uneaten will be a story that becomes the stuff of local legend
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what a load of old Bull
used to live in a farm and we had to move the cars when the bull came through in case he got cross and killed them. he had a muscle for lifting his head that was bigger than me.
I remember asking the farmer how you moved him - you dont move him you move the cows and he follows was the reply
They are massive up close and personal and could crush with a gentle nudge
😯
Did you not see the Beware of Bull sign? 😉
were you reading lord of the rings/the hobbit before writing this by any chance 😉
am glad that the bull was calm,but now have images of someone singing really bad poetry (tom bombadil 😯
He was a very big fella for sure and shouldn't have been in the lane.. (unless he was being moved and I just didn't see the rest of the procession in my panic)
I've been trying to find out who owns him so I can let them know he's out, although there's probably sod all they can do until morning..
but now have images of someone singing really bad poetry (tom bombadil
I don't know about poetry, I was singing flippin' hymns until I calmed down a bit.. 😳
Hmm, this sounds like the escaped Lion story all over again...
Wasn't a small domestic cat by any chance was it?
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Once upon a time there was a little white bull
Very sad, because he was a little white bull
(Little white bull)
All the black bulls called him a coward
Just 'cause he was white
Only black bulls go to the bullring
Only black bulls fight
When he asked his mama if a little white bull
(Little white bull)
Ever had a chance of turning black
His mama said, you silly little bull
You're a pretty little bull
You're my little bull
So please don't ask me why, little bull
You just ain't black!
But this did not satisfy that little white bull
(Little white bull)
He was an exception to that little white rule
(Little white rule)
Everyday alone in the meadow, he'd find things to charge
Till one day he really imagined, that his horns were large
Bold as brass right then and then, the little white bull
(Little white bull)
Quickly found the nearest road to town
And people said, what a funny little bull
What a fluffy little bull, he's our little bull
He marched along, a proud little bull
And hit the town!
It was the day of the bullfight, all the town were there
Waiting to see the famous matador
Trumpeters sounded a fanfare, tam-ta-da-dam-tam-taaa!
Out from the throats of the crowd came a mighty roar
Into the ring to the shout of a great olé (olé!)
Came the parade, all prepared for a mighty fray
Matadors and picadors and toreadors
And who do you think as well?
Trotting right behind them came the little white bull
(The little white bull)
How they laughed out loud to see the little white bull
(Little white bull)
Trotting 'round the giant arena, with his head up high
Till the matador in the centre caught his tiny eye
Charging right up to him went the little white bull
(Little white bull)
Charging twice and charging once again
The matador cried, torro little bull!
You're not a little bull, you're a brave little bull
You're gonna be a great little bull
The best in Spain!
Then the crowd all shouted, torro little bull!
You're not a little bull, you're a brave little bull
You're gonna be a great little bull
The best in Spain!
So if you got a little bull, that's a white little bull
It's quite possible that it might be the bull
That's the best in Spain
Is this part of the ecstasy experiment?
Nice steak. Worry more if its Hereford or Holstein/Friesan bull. They can be a tad unpredictable.