Rant n' Roll
I read a friend's post a couple of days ago. It was a post about manners and etiquette with regard to cyclists and pedestrians. The author of this post was on the pedestrian side of the matter and was very rightly irked about the behavior of a woman and her litter on bicycles. The post itself was fine, I completely understand the sentiment, and agree with everything the author said. Some of the comments to this post, though, were a bit bothersome. I'm a cyclist. As such, I get a little touchy when people, even in jest, suggest violence as an answer to a real or perceived breach in two-wheeled etiquette. I was going to leave a comment of my own, but I realized two things: 1) I shouldn't muck up my friend's perfectly legit blog post with a hypersensitive rant on behalf of the Lycra Nation, and 2) I have a blog of my very own which I excel at mucking up.
I used to get my ass up at 5:30 on Saturday mornings so that I could be pedaling down a farm road by 7:00 with a few of my equally crazy friends. My goal is to get to that point again, but that's not my point here. We cyclists are just like the rest of society. We're a mixed bag of personalities all wrapped up in colors bright enough that we hope you see us. I know many of you do, but you don't care. You try to hit us, run us off the road or just plain buzz us to scare us and hope we ride into a ditch, because for some reason you believe that, contrary to the actual law, we should not be on the road. Forgive us if some of us get a bit testy about this. Forgive us also if we sometimes ride on a sidewalk in the city. Some of those roads are not rideable close to the curb and the aforementioned drivers refuse to believe that we have a lawful right to the entire lane. Further, drivers believe they also have the right to encroach upon or drive in the few clearly marked bicycle lanes we have, because they can't keep their land yachts in the car lanes. We sometimes ride on sidewalks for self preservation, not for the sole purpose of pissing people off.
Most of us do what we're supposed to, whether we're on streets, sidewalks or hike/bike paths: When approaching pedestrians or slower riders, we loudly call out "On your left!" to warn you that we're going to pass you. On your left. If someone fails to do that? They're rude and, perhaps, a jerk. If a pedestrian fails to heed this warning, they believe the cyclist is still rude and, perhaps, a jerk. We can't win here. In any event, being either rude or, perhaps, a jerk is not against the law, but in this case, both seem to elicit violent reactions from people who believe that such douchbaggery deserves nothing less in return than unlawful brutal assault.
On behalf of the large proportion of cyclists in the world who follow the rules and laws, I apologize for the actions of the irresponsible riders and cyclists who have angered some to the point of grabbing pitchfork and torch. Surely such affronts to their delicate sensibilities have traumatized them to the point that their only respite is a visceral call for the blood and pain of the offending passing stranger so that they can have a hearty laugh. What a healthy reaction. Miss Manners is aglow in pride over their warrior-like dedication to etiquette and civility.
For any budding Ted Bundys who believe shoving a stick in my spokes would be funny or some sort of justifiable retribution for whatever wrong you believe I've committed against man and nature on my 20 lb "toy:" Be ready for a tiny surprise. Assault charges will follow as soon as I can pull my phone from my seat bag and call 911. You can also expect to pay a hefty bill from the bike shop to repair or replace the rim you just ruined, the helmet that did its job, and anything else you bent, scratched or broke on my bike. Road bikes and their components can be surprisingly pricey. You know what else can be pricey? The medical bills you'll be paying on my behalf. Shoving a stick through my spokes could result in any number of injuries, including a broken collarbone, a broken wrist, or a knee injury. Oh, and let's not forget the possible ambulance ride to the ER. After all, you just trashed my mode of transportation, and even if you hadn't, you rendered me unable to operate it, and I doubt you'd find a cab driver willing to take a bloodied and sweating person anywhere. As for the road rash? I won't expect you to pay for that treatment, unless it needs debriding. That procedure is tantamount to torture, and I'm not suffering alone simply because you needed a self-righteous giggle one fine afternoon.
For those who can't get to a suitable pokin' stick in time and must therefore improvise by pushing me off my bike or grabbing a handlebar to knock me over: Please read the previous paragraph. The injuries to me and damage to my bike may differ in this scenario, but rest assured you'll be paying for them after you answer to the police.
It blows my little mind that there are people out there who either don't realize how much injury their little bit of retribution can cause, or they actually think broken bones and blood are not just deserved, but are funny. I wonder how many Twinkies one must eat to make the latter OK.
I used to get my ass up at 5:30 on Saturday mornings so that I could be pedaling down a farm road by 7:00 with a few of my equally crazy friends. My goal is to get to that point again, but that's not my point here. We cyclists are just like the rest of society. We're a mixed bag of personalities all wrapped up in colors bright enough that we hope you see us. I know many of you do, but you don't care. You try to hit us, run us off the road or just plain buzz us to scare us and hope we ride into a ditch, because for some reason you believe that, contrary to the actual law, we should not be on the road. Forgive us if some of us get a bit testy about this. Forgive us also if we sometimes ride on a sidewalk in the city. Some of those roads are not rideable close to the curb and the aforementioned drivers refuse to believe that we have a lawful right to the entire lane. Further, drivers believe they also have the right to encroach upon or drive in the few clearly marked bicycle lanes we have, because they can't keep their land yachts in the car lanes. We sometimes ride on sidewalks for self preservation, not for the sole purpose of pissing people off.
Most of us do what we're supposed to, whether we're on streets, sidewalks or hike/bike paths: When approaching pedestrians or slower riders, we loudly call out "On your left!" to warn you that we're going to pass you. On your left. If someone fails to do that? They're rude and, perhaps, a jerk. If a pedestrian fails to heed this warning, they believe the cyclist is still rude and, perhaps, a jerk. We can't win here. In any event, being either rude or, perhaps, a jerk is not against the law, but in this case, both seem to elicit violent reactions from people who believe that such douchbaggery deserves nothing less in return than unlawful brutal assault.
On behalf of the large proportion of cyclists in the world who follow the rules and laws, I apologize for the actions of the irresponsible riders and cyclists who have angered some to the point of grabbing pitchfork and torch. Surely such affronts to their delicate sensibilities have traumatized them to the point that their only respite is a visceral call for the blood and pain of the offending passing stranger so that they can have a hearty laugh. What a healthy reaction. Miss Manners is aglow in pride over their warrior-like dedication to etiquette and civility.
For any budding Ted Bundys who believe shoving a stick in my spokes would be funny or some sort of justifiable retribution for whatever wrong you believe I've committed against man and nature on my 20 lb "toy:" Be ready for a tiny surprise. Assault charges will follow as soon as I can pull my phone from my seat bag and call 911. You can also expect to pay a hefty bill from the bike shop to repair or replace the rim you just ruined, the helmet that did its job, and anything else you bent, scratched or broke on my bike. Road bikes and their components can be surprisingly pricey. You know what else can be pricey? The medical bills you'll be paying on my behalf. Shoving a stick through my spokes could result in any number of injuries, including a broken collarbone, a broken wrist, or a knee injury. Oh, and let's not forget the possible ambulance ride to the ER. After all, you just trashed my mode of transportation, and even if you hadn't, you rendered me unable to operate it, and I doubt you'd find a cab driver willing to take a bloodied and sweating person anywhere. As for the road rash? I won't expect you to pay for that treatment, unless it needs debriding. That procedure is tantamount to torture, and I'm not suffering alone simply because you needed a self-righteous giggle one fine afternoon.
For those who can't get to a suitable pokin' stick in time and must therefore improvise by pushing me off my bike or grabbing a handlebar to knock me over: Please read the previous paragraph. The injuries to me and damage to my bike may differ in this scenario, but rest assured you'll be paying for them after you answer to the police.
It blows my little mind that there are people out there who either don't realize how much injury their little bit of retribution can cause, or they actually think broken bones and blood are not just deserved, but are funny. I wonder how many Twinkies one must eat to make the latter OK.