If you ride, you know that sooner or later, you’ll pick up a road name. It’s part of the culture. Some names are badass. Some are ironic. Some are just plain ridiculous.
Mine? Goose.
Not because of Top Gun. Not because I have a need for speed.
No—because I was attacked by a flying Canada Goose.
Picture this: first ride of the season (two years ago), out on my motorcycle, minding my own business. Out of nowhere, this angry, hissing, honking feathered missile launches itself from 50+ feet away—straight at my head.
No time to dodge. No time to react. Just had to brace for impact.
The thing hit me square in the face—beak open, honking like a lunatic. Body slammed into my shoulder, my bike mirror… even bent it out of place!
Luckily, I was wearing a full-face helmet, and no, I didn’t crash. (Though I did have a few choice words as I kept the rubber side down.)
The bird? It bounced off and flew away—probably laughing.
Me? I rode away, rattled but in one piece.
Now, fast-forward to when I got my GoldWing. My biker buddies—mostly Harley riders—loved to poke fun at how quiet my engine was compared to their roaring pipes.
But what most people don’t know about the GoldWing? It has a horn that sounds like a freight train.
The thing is jarringly effective.
So, every time my friends would rev their bikes, I’d answer with two quick blasts: Honk. Honk.
And just like that—a quiet bike, a loud horn, and a mid-air goose attack merged into one.
The name Goose stuck.
That’s how I earned my road name.
#StayFrosty, stay safe, and watch out for flying wildlife. 🦅🏍️
If you live in Onatrio, Canada, like I do, you might be looking for some wonderful rides.
Here’s a few good ones to get you started.