Admittedly, I don't go birding for exercise...So there I was standing on the winding dirt path, amongst the native grasses that lined the river bank, quietly watching a group of ducks. I had driven the WPT to one of my favorite spots along the Menomonee River after work, trying to beat the declining sunlight to its inevitable daily conclusion. Bird watching in the afternoon is particularly recharging to me after a long day at the grind of my basement (no-windows) desk job. Reaching into the club cab back seat, I don my drab green birding vest, strap on the Bushnells, fasten the camo fanny pack containing my field guides around my waist, and grab my digital Fuji; heading for the solace of the awaiting riverside. I have done this same drill dozens of times before. It soothes me and allows me a chance to walk silently listening, watching, and thinking...only to have to dodge them when they appear out of no where!
Would someone please explain this to me...seriously. If you are reading this and can help my wee brain with a modicum of understanding, I may be able to drop it, but until that cogent moment, forget it...the gloves are OFF! I have taken to referring to these individuals as: Bicycle 
Riding Animal Irritating Nature Disrupting Environmental Assault Demons or (in simpler terms) The B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. If you knew me (and reading this blog over time, you'll get a pretty good idea) you'd know that I am far from a left-leaning environmentalist who believes that the only rights to the planet belong to anything that does not have opposable thumbs, walks upright on two feet, and owns an IPod. But 'Cmon people...did someone close all the streets, sidewalks and the motocross tracks!? I have no idea where the bizarre and hugely annoying (sport, hobby), whatever the hell activity (involving ramming your two-wheeler through, around, over and under the tranquil, peaceful paths in the woods) came from, but I know this; I am not a fan. There are basically two types of individuals that I have witnessed engaging in this activity; the "Upscale" and the "Lowscale" riders. The thing that they have in common are the fact that they are both B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. and need to find somewhere else to eliminate built-up testosterone. I suggest making love. It's fun, provides physical activity and it's far less annoying to those who choose to also coexist simultaneously in their same general vicinity.
Riding Animal Irritating Nature Disrupting Environmental Assault Demons or (in simpler terms) The B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. If you knew me (and reading this blog over time, you'll get a pretty good idea) you'd know that I am far from a left-leaning environmentalist who believes that the only rights to the planet belong to anything that does not have opposable thumbs, walks upright on two feet, and owns an IPod. But 'Cmon people...did someone close all the streets, sidewalks and the motocross tracks!? I have no idea where the bizarre and hugely annoying (sport, hobby), whatever the hell activity (involving ramming your two-wheeler through, around, over and under the tranquil, peaceful paths in the woods) came from, but I know this; I am not a fan. There are basically two types of individuals that I have witnessed engaging in this activity; the "Upscale" and the "Lowscale" riders. The thing that they have in common are the fact that they are both B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. and need to find somewhere else to eliminate built-up testosterone. I suggest making love. It's fun, provides physical activity and it's far less annoying to those who choose to also coexist simultaneously in their same general vicinity.Back to the ducks...I am standing still and soundlessly on the edge of the river side trail, watching the ducks when behind me the squeal 
of hand breaks and a soft curse draws my attention away. "Watch out!" calls the first man to the one behind. I glance backward and see that two "Upscale" riders, gaily festooned in their garishly colored, sponsor emblazoned, spandex have come to a sudden halt mere feet from my exposed ankles. The first of the B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. breathlessly asks, "Whaddaya see?" "Wood ducks," I respond, pointing. "No..." immediately replies the Upscaler (as if he was some kind of instant Google-fairy dropping in to correct the hapless idiot with the binoculars, with his infinite wisdom.) Plus, he says it like there's nothing special about a Mallard. I say, "Not there," (pointing to the dozen Mallards he thinks I am seeing) "There." I point to the three ducks on the left who are obviously NOT Mallards, and are now (with all this pointless interruption) swiftly vacating the area. He says nothing (as if 
he was never there) and navigates around me and away into the brush. I snap a photo cause I am speechless once more, and want to share how utterly ridiculous this seems with you, the readers of this blog. You decide for yourself, and remember I asked for help here...if you "get" this behavior, feel free to set me straight. I'll try...really. (Oh, and the "Lowscale" version of the B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. just don't wear the foolishly colored costumes as they crash, slam, and bludgeon there way through my peaceful woods.)
of hand breaks and a soft curse draws my attention away. "Watch out!" calls the first man to the one behind. I glance backward and see that two "Upscale" riders, gaily festooned in their garishly colored, sponsor emblazoned, spandex have come to a sudden halt mere feet from my exposed ankles. The first of the B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. breathlessly asks, "Whaddaya see?" "Wood ducks," I respond, pointing. "No..." immediately replies the Upscaler (as if he was some kind of instant Google-fairy dropping in to correct the hapless idiot with the binoculars, with his infinite wisdom.) Plus, he says it like there's nothing special about a Mallard. I say, "Not there," (pointing to the dozen Mallards he thinks I am seeing) "There." I point to the three ducks on the left who are obviously NOT Mallards, and are now (with all this pointless interruption) swiftly vacating the area. He says nothing (as if 
he was never there) and navigates around me and away into the brush. I snap a photo cause I am speechless once more, and want to share how utterly ridiculous this seems with you, the readers of this blog. You decide for yourself, and remember I asked for help here...if you "get" this behavior, feel free to set me straight. I'll try...really. (Oh, and the "Lowscale" version of the B.R.A.I.N.D.E.A.D. just don't wear the foolishly colored costumes as they crash, slam, and bludgeon there way through my peaceful woods.)I'll also bet that they completely missed the Whitetail deer standing there, quietly munching on some grass...pity...I didn't.
...say cheese!
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