This is what I have to contend with every time I bike from my cabin in New York. These were taken from my uncle's car but when I'm on my DF he's up close and personal, either weaving in front of me or trying to clamp his lips on a piece of overhanging flesh at the end of my handlebar. I have to make sure there's a little bar-end exposed. Luckily for me he just wants to play, I think. Unfortunately, I think taking me down is his idea of fun.
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