The Bicycle Putt: How To Get Your Bike Over A Ten Foot Deer Fence

Yesterday, just beside the West Highland Way, I encountered a ten foot deer fence with no stile anywhere. I had just trudged through a bog uphill with bike in tow and there was no way I was turning back. My feet were soaked and I was in no mood for fences. This is an important area for walkers, whether the bosky plugs or the standing stones, there are items of curiosity to be found. However, when people start erecting ten foot fences to prevent deer from accessing these areas they are also preventing people from their eternal right to roam. And so, instead of risking a hernia or a broken bike and shot-putting my bike over the fence I have now taken to carrying a pair of wire-cutters with me. It's bad enough that the land in Scotland is not Scottish and belongs to about five people without blocking it off with virtual walls. We are entering a time now where spontaneity  and response-ability (as the ability to respond in the moment unmediated) needs a resurgence. Instead of going through the courts and all the stress that this causes. Don't get mad. Don't even throw your bike over the fence. Instead, cut that fence, and make an access point. Your right to roam demands it!

Once upon a time fences were of a human height like this one. Indeed, 'fences' were once organic ever-shape-shifting dry stone walls four feet high. Nowadays, fences are ten foot tall, barb-wired and electrified. Talk about the right to roam!! (Wire cutters, like my spare tube and pump, and permanent marker pen, are now part of the wild cyclist's canon).