Retards in iridescent spandex
So I'm driving home the other day on Route 128.
This is a twisty, turny hilly road that sees a fair amount of 50+ MPH traffic. In my youth, this was the road that we all drove like hell on - it's a fun road, but it requires a fair amount of attention to navigate safely.
I come upon a group of three guys on their bikes. They're riding three abreast on this road. Taking up say, 7 or 8 feet of the lane. There's oncoming traffic, so I can't easily go around. When I was about 200 yards away, maybe, I gave a coupla beeps on the horn, just to let 'em know I was coming.
They don't move.
I'm already on the brakes, but now I'm really on them. I figure "Okay, maybe they didn't hear me?" and hit the horn again. Not layin' on it, mind you, just a coupla' beeps, like "Hey, man, I'm comin' up behind you here... 4000 pounds of steel... 50 miles per hour... hellooooooooo?!"
They still don't move.
So now I'm down to maybe 18 or 20 MPH because I can't get around these guys. Now I'm pissed. So I just lay on the horn. Finally, Captain Douchebag and his merry men deign to allow me around and they move into single file. As I drive by, the tailend guy flips me off.
What is it with sanctimonious prick cyclists? Somehow, they inhabit a high moral ground that nobody else can enter. The world is theirs - they are free to ignore traffic signals when it pleases them, but expect to be treated like a car when it's advantageous for them. They're free to ride three abreast on a state highway, and have the gall to get pissy with me when I make it clear that they're not making it easy for me to not kill them. And don't even get me started about the current state of road-geek "cycling fashion".
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for save the world organic vegan cyclery with bikes made from recycled compost. I am, on occasion, a cyclist myself. I've played in traffic for years, and I understand the risks and the rewards of riding on the roads.
Have an ounce of brains. Don't ride three abreast on a highway. Don't make it hard for me to not run you over. Oh, and that Selle Italia team jersey, size XXL that you're wearing, fatboy? I'm sure it looks great on Lance, but not so much on you...
This is a twisty, turny hilly road that sees a fair amount of 50+ MPH traffic. In my youth, this was the road that we all drove like hell on - it's a fun road, but it requires a fair amount of attention to navigate safely.
I come upon a group of three guys on their bikes. They're riding three abreast on this road. Taking up say, 7 or 8 feet of the lane. There's oncoming traffic, so I can't easily go around. When I was about 200 yards away, maybe, I gave a coupla beeps on the horn, just to let 'em know I was coming.
They don't move.
I'm already on the brakes, but now I'm really on them. I figure "Okay, maybe they didn't hear me?" and hit the horn again. Not layin' on it, mind you, just a coupla' beeps, like "Hey, man, I'm comin' up behind you here... 4000 pounds of steel... 50 miles per hour... hellooooooooo?!"
They still don't move.
So now I'm down to maybe 18 or 20 MPH because I can't get around these guys. Now I'm pissed. So I just lay on the horn. Finally, Captain Douchebag and his merry men deign to allow me around and they move into single file. As I drive by, the tailend guy flips me off.
What is it with sanctimonious prick cyclists? Somehow, they inhabit a high moral ground that nobody else can enter. The world is theirs - they are free to ignore traffic signals when it pleases them, but expect to be treated like a car when it's advantageous for them. They're free to ride three abreast on a state highway, and have the gall to get pissy with me when I make it clear that they're not making it easy for me to not kill them. And don't even get me started about the current state of road-geek "cycling fashion".
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for save the world organic vegan cyclery with bikes made from recycled compost. I am, on occasion, a cyclist myself. I've played in traffic for years, and I understand the risks and the rewards of riding on the roads.
Have an ounce of brains. Don't ride three abreast on a highway. Don't make it hard for me to not run you over. Oh, and that Selle Italia team jersey, size XXL that you're wearing, fatboy? I'm sure it looks great on Lance, but not so much on you...
posted by mmm bort! at
4:04 PM
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