Apparently, I Camped in the Wrong Spot

This morning I was awakened by the unmistakable sound of a buck deer loudly expressing his displeasure with my campsite selection.

Not one snort. About six big, deliberate snorts. The kind that clearly say: “You are definitely not supposed to be here.”

Still half asleep, I unzipped the tent and stuck my head outside to find myself face to face with a very unhappy buck staring directly at me.

Apparently, I had unknowingly placed my tent and bike right in the middle of his morning route.

From what I could tell, this was where he and the other deer emerged from the trees and crossed the open grass on their way to wherever deer business takes place. And there I was, camped out like someone who had set up a tent in the middle of rush hour traffic.

He looked annoyed. I looked confused. After several more snorts, just in case I hadn’t fully understood the message—he finally moved on.

By the end of today’s ride, I reached mile marker 639.8, carrying with me one more story that never would have happened had I stayed home.

The adventure is happening, whether you’re paying attention or not.

And sometimes, the lesson arrives with six loud snorts before sunrise.