Man bikes dog

10 Average weekly amount (in dollars) people give Jefferson Opal because they think he’s homeless

4 Number of “contraptions” he has had made for canine transport on his bike

2 Years he’s been riding around with a dog perched behind him

25 Average miles he cycles per day

25 Number of pounds he’s lost since he started biking

60 The most miles he’s ridden in a day “to buy Ringo from someone in Denham Springs”

Exactly what is that contraption?

‘You’re the eighth person to ask me for an interview.”

“Today?”

“No, just in general.”

“Oh. You’re becoming famous?”

“I guess. Did you see my photo in The Advocate?”

“Yes. Not bad. I’d like to know more, though…”

“What would you like to know?”

Jefferson Opal is becoming a local celebrity. Whether he really wants it is hard to tell, but my guess is no.

He has Ringo, a 4-month-old miniature collie, on the “contraption” with him. The pup incessantly bites at the chicken wire around his little mobile home.

If you’ve seen Opal in the past few years, you’ll notice there’s a new dog on board. “The old dog was Leo. He died on Jan. 11. Hit by a car.”

“Why wasn’t he riding in the contraption?”

“They have to get some exercise! Dogs get cranky when they don’t exercise.”

Not too long after Leo’s death came the purchase of Ringo. He nips at your fingers through the wire with his puppy needle teeth.

“Why did you build this thing?”

“Because I wasn’t getting any exercise, and I love to bring my dog with me wherever I go. I always ended up driving instead of riding my bike.”

To compensate for the lack of physical exertion, Opal created perhaps the most distinctive doggie-transportation contraption in Baton Rouge. He’s since turned in his license plate. “I have no need for a car anymore.”

As we talk, several people stare and take photos with iPhones and cameras. Others stand around and listen to him speak. It seems like they expect him to tell a parable or say something profound.

“Do you have a job?”

“Yes. I’m a computer programmer.”

“Where are you biking to all the time?”

“All around. I usually bike between 20 and 30 miles a day. Just getting to College Drive from my house is 15 miles.”

“But where are you going?”

“Bookstores, sometimes.”

He’s grown quite used to the picture-snapping and questions.

“People will stop and thank me for making their kids smile and things like that. They’ll even give me some money sometimes. Usually for the dog.”

“You take it?”

“Yes, but it always goes towards the dog. I think they think I’m homeless.”

But he isn’t. And at once, all my speculations are gone. Most were wrong anyway.

This is a fascinating man, and a man with many stories.

Like burying Leo in the woods after he died, and going back two months later to get his skull. “It’s great. It’s powerful,” he says.

And the fact that Opal’s a college graduate from LSU and has a master’s degree. He’s also developing a machine to kill mosquitoes that will “make me very wealthy.”

“But will you still ride your bike?”

“Of course. I love this. Never a dull moment.”