What does Led Zeppelin have to do with road biking?

Whenever I leave for a bike ride Heidi usually takes a moment to express some form of worry about my safety. I usually laugh it off like "Hey Babe... my cat like reflexes will take care of me just fine." The truth is I am scared to death of crashing. It's been about 4 years since I last tasted asphalt going down the Alpine Loop. I went over the handle bars on a particularly sharp switchback and as any roadie knows the longer it's been since your last crash, the chance of a new one looms ever near.

My current great fear is descending down the canyon and colliding with wildlife, a deer to be exact. Last summer I had some near misses as random deer jumped out of the brush as I zipped by on my 17 lb. carbon fiber bullet. Luckily we missed each other but every time I thought I was toast. I think the sight of a middle aged man in a helmet sporting spandex hypnotized the deer long enough to keep them from moving into my path.

They looked kind of like this as I rode by.

Today was my first '08 ride up the canyon and I enjoyed the peaceful climb with no thoughts of deer crashing. (It does help that when riding up the canyon I average about 6 mph). However when I hit the turn around and got ready to begin the descent, the thought hit me "Those damn deer are out there waiting to get you killed." Now at this point I should mention that one of my theories is that cyclists are particularly susceptible to deer collisions because they are so quiet coming down the road relative to cars.

Here is where we find the answer to this blog's title question, "What does Led Zeppelin have to do with road biking? the answer...

I clipped my feet into the pedals and started the descent. As my speed and deer fears began to rapidly increase, I said to myself, "Those deer are going to hear me coming this time." Just then I let out a true Robert Plant siren scream, "You need coolin' baby, I'm not foolin'I'm gonna say it, yeh! Go back to schoolin." The trees were whipping by while the adrenaline and inability to hear myself kept urging my siren song. "Ohhhhhhhh I gotta whole lot of love... dun dun dun uh a whole lot of love." By the time I made it back into the flats of the city I was unharmed having seen no deer and completing "Whole lot of love" and half of "Dazed and Confused".

At this time I'd like to thank the CD player in my truck for inspiring me these preceding weeks (I've been on Zeppelin kick lately) and Mr. Robert Plant for that freaky falsetto voice that must have had those deer scared to death.