Editors, Vineyard Gazette

On July 2 (a Saturday) I was driving along Middle Road in Chilmark while on my way to work. As is my habit I was driving slowly and savoring the sounds — or silence — of nature. It was just about 12:30 p.m. as I reached the field containing a herd of dairy cows which were lying down and chewing their cud at the back of the field. That is all but one cow who was standing off to the side and partially in the road surrounded (not too closely) by four bicyclists who were “fencing” her off while talking over what to do.

As it turned out just as they rode by the corner of the field she had jumped the rock wall, collapsing a portion of the wall beneath her ample udder and scaring the bicyclists as she attempted frantically to emerge from the surrounding bushes. The bicyclists noticed that the bushes were shaking and then were very surprised at being faced with a very anxious cow in full retreat mode.

As any rational person would do, I pulled over and went to help them return the cow to the field. We went to work tying a section of the fence across the gap and got her back into the field.

Unfortunately, she immediately began to pace the wall and we were afraid she would attempt high-jump number two. Just as we nearly caught her and were attempting to steer her away, we heard a hellish great roar coming from the north and a jostling, revving-up phalanx of motorcycles swept into view. Rather than slow down or, better yet, stop, they put their collective feet to the metal and the bikes — about 10 or so conventional motor cycles and one very shiny, very red, trike bike — roared by us, along with the now totally terrified and frantic cow. at about 50 miles per hour.

My accompanying comments to them probably could be heard in Chappy!

Eventually we did get Bossy the cow settled down and the good Samaritan bicyclists, accompanied by a great deal gratitude, rode off.

Fast forward to yesterday, nearly two weeks to the minute of the cow encounter. I was driving to work along Middle Road when from behind me roars the Trike Bike along with a conventional motor cycle.

Given a second chance to mention to them the error of their ways, I pulled into the middle of the road, stopped and after a brief but frank conversation confirming that they were at the scene of the cow two weeks ago, they again roared by me at which point I again articulated my opinions about their lack of respect and consideration. The whole din probably reached Nantucket this time. Please folks, remember that horses, bicyclists, pedestrians, baby carriages, walkers, joggers, bicyclists and, yes, even cows, have the right to share the roads. Drive slowly, particularly in the presence of others — whether two or four-legged.

Virginia Jones

West Tisbury