Ninety-percent of my daily ride takes place in rural surroundings. I live in a region of Southern California were commercial agriculture reigns supreme. Avocados groves, citrus orchards, flowers, plants, and greenhouses dominate my riding landscape.
Many residents here dabble in personal agriculture as well. Most homes here are on multiple acres of property and among the more fashionable trends in this community, along with ‘family fruit’ trees, massive bougainvillea hedges, and the ever-increasing front yard vineyards, is the keeping of chickens.
Where there are chickens, of course, there are often roosters.
Like you, I was raised to believe that roosters wake early and are nature’s alarm clocks — that every rooster gets up with or just before the sun and announces to anyone or anything in proximity that a new day is about to begin. His mechanism for this…? His cock-a-doodle-doo.

Riding my bike in the middle of the day I have learned that roosters, at least the ones around here, could give a frog’s fat ass what time of day they cock-a-doodle-doo. I often ride in the late mornings, the early afternoons, and even after dark on occasion. As I ride around this community, turning corners, buzzing the straightaways, climbing the hills and taking in this earthy rural scenery, I hear roosters at every possible time of day.
So I sort of feel like I’ve been fed a bag of lies since childhood. Roosters, like wealthy white men it seems, crow all day long and into the night.
Underscoring this, two of my three adjoining neighbors keep chickens and roosters and never, NEVER, do I hear them early. Being one who gets up early each day, I would take note if they did. I do though, hear them as I am working in my studio — all day long.
But the real lie that I’m coming to terms with, the one that has been forced upon me since childhood, the lie that school teachers, children’s books, cartoons, and movies have all perpetrated is that roosters go cock-a-doodle-doo.
They do not.
Roosters, at least the ones around here, very clearly go Aroot-aroot-aroooooo. This is inarguable. If one listens, breaks it down phonetically and tries to duplicate through our human vocal abilities, the sound a rooster makes can’t be anything other than Aroot-aroot-aroooooo.

Try it — just try and sound like a rooster. Do it right now, and as loud as you can. Don’t worry about your workmates, your fellow students or your family, just stand up and at the top of your lungs go Aroot-aroot-aroooooo. You’ll see that I’m correct.
When those close to me take exception with my propensity for constantly challenging the leadership, I’m going to use this as another example of why we should always question authority, and why we should question everything we’re taught in school.

We have all been lied to about roosters, and far too many have been willing to accept those lies — I guess because it’s just easier that way.
Roosters don’t wake up early, and roosters don’t go cock-a-doodle-doo. It’s just not true.
This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb
Yesterday’s Ride…
Bike: Cortez The Killer
23 miles
1,300’ climbing
15.2 mph avg
1,500 calories
Yesterday’s earworm: The Sun Do Shine, by Glen Campbell
Whether you ride a bike or not, thank you for taking the time to ride along with me today. If you haven’t already, please scroll up and subscribe. If you like what you read, give it a like and a share. If not, just keep scrollin’. Oh, and there is this from Glen Campbell. Enjoy…!
HaHa! I have a real opinion on this! First off, my current neighbor has chickens. It is against the neighborhood restrictions to have chickens, but he’s got them. I have dubbed this area of my neighborhood the “Group W Bench,” for those not moral enough to really be living here, lol. Secondly, before my current neighbor, I had a great family living there. One time the neighbor on my other side had a big event and somehow, someone brought a rooster that managed to escape and decide to move into the great neighbors several acres yard. That SOB would crow very early in the AM and intermittently during the day. So I called up my neighbor one time to complain and suggest he do something about it. He said he had been trying but could not catch him and I was welcome to try. Now today, I have my Border Collie, and he would take care of the matter in a flash if I asked him to, but I was dogless then. Eventually, the rooster disappeared and once again it was quiet here, mostly…
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That’s kind of a great story, but I’m sure very frustrating.
It’s truly part of the culture here. The poor caucasian and Hispanic demographic keeps chickens for the obvious reason of eggs. The wealthy white community here, keep them because it’s trendy. No matter where one goes around Fallbrook, one is certain to hear chickens and roosters. It just all kind of blends in now…
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As my good neighbor said to me yesterday when I said I wish Skye didn’t bark, “Don’t worry about it, it’s all white noise to us!” 🙂
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You are correct on all counts here, sir 😂😂
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Thanks for taking me along the ride through Fallbrook’s groves, and my childhood memories of Foghorn Leghorn and Cock Fights in Hawaii. It was horrible for me to witness a brilliant colorful bird go to waste from his loss. I still get sad and mad flashing back.
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