Reminds me of when I was in Tahiti, on the back of Daniel's Vespa scooter, largish black dog races out, snarling and snapping, really sounded like he didn't like bikes. The dog's gaining on us as Daniel gives the Vespa full throttle and we are trying to escape uphill, two-up (and Daniel is not a small boy, they feed 'em well in Tahiti) on an ancient Vespa. I was trying to get my ankles over my helmet as the dog was getting dangerously close to getting me.
Finally managed to gain ground away from the dog (love the way 2-strokes just keep on winding out, - the dog ran out of acceleration before we did).
Kick it? I was wearing shorts and sandals (I did say this was Tahiti, and it was before I became a biker, let alone the old aware-of-my-own-mortality Nana I am now)
I felt I was lucky to be able to keep my feet away from it at all. Seriously expected to get bitten.
That's one dog I hope did get skittled by a car while doing similar shit.
Motorbike Camping for the win!
Bookmarks