If previous rides were a "fist-fight", this one was a bloody cage match, with me being bludgeoned with a metal folding chair. I rode to church - 23 miles from my home, nearly half of which is eastbound(the direction from which the 12-15 mph wind was coming ) and the other half, south bound. I reasoned - right or wrong, I don't know - that I would prefer to just get it out of the way, just ride east all in one shot so that when I did turn, I wouldn't have to face the wind again. This was fine, but what an arduous 10.5 miles it turned out to be. Besides the harsh wind, I had temps in the mid 30's + windchill and more dogs than usual. I think they sence when you lack the wherewithal to out-run them, be it because of wind or weakness or whatever else causes a rider to fall prey. In the rural areas where I ride, "leash laws" really means...well, it doesn't really mean anything - if you have a dog, you just releash him to roam the countryside and to terrorize cyclists
(that's release=releash...nevermind).
The one that scared - I should say startled - me the most, though, was a little yellow pommeranian. He was nearly the same color as the corn stalk residue that was lying on the field. And, he was quiet. He just snuck up on me and then let out a horrible sound that would have made the devil shudder - a snarl/bark/growl that belied his tiny size. By this time he was just off of my right heel. I believe my heart stopped - probably a full 3 seconds.

As it was a commute to church, I thought this dog-laden ordeal into the wind would be a good time to get some prayer in. God, please give me the juice to make it to the next mile-marker. Please give me the juice to outrun this dog. Please give me the juice to make it up this hill against the wind. Please let THIS dog be friendly, coz I got no juice left.

It ended with a smile, though. Just about a mile before I was about to turn south - and out of the wind - I saw another dog about a quarter of a mile up the road, and he was waiting on me. I was prepared to just lie down and let him eat me, because he had too much of a head start and I had nothing more to give(nothing more than a pound of flesh, that is - or more, if he wanted it). Turns out, he was a very friendly black lab. He loped along with me for about a 1000 feet or so, occassionally looking back over his shoulder as if he were pacing me up. Guess my prayer paid off afterall.