Mean Drivers and Dirty Legs

I’ve had several harrowing experiences on my bike over the past few days, all involving mean bullies driving multi-ton vehicles at high speeds. And they’re all out to get me, all 139-lbs of me, toiling away under my own steam up hills and against 15mph winds. Saturday, a semi materialized out of thin air, seemingly, and passed me going 55 mph without moving over even an inch. It pretty much pushed me off the road, and its windy wake almost knocked me over. Thankfully, I ended up pedalling in the grass next to the shoulder. Some of those roads have a 6-inch drop-off where the pavement ends. If I had hit something like that, I would have fallen. This is embarassing, but I was actually in my own little world when it passed me, praying, and then instantly, I was shouting and swearing at the idiot-driver who tried to kill me. Then I realized that God was probably still listening, and I had to apologize for my language.

   Today, I did a trial-run of riding my bike to work, although I actually have the day off. The way out was pretty good, the wind was behind me, and I was energized by my rather grandiose schemes of giving up my car entirely and just cycling everywhere. And then this white service van blasted by, again leaving me NO margin, and of course, I’m toiling up a hill. Made me burn, I tell you!

But the real kicker happened on the way back. The wind was now against me, and I was really working hard. There is a stretch of road that looks just like a roller-coaster, up and down, up and down, rather steep and almost fun if you can build up your momentum on the downs. This guy was behind me for these hills, and I knew he wanted to pass me, because he kept gunning his engine and getting really close, only to slow way down when an oncoming car would approach. And I’m going as fast as I can, powering up these steep hills, breathing all the air in the atmosphere, praying he doesn’t get too close, because there is NO shoulder, just a ditch. Finally, he sees his moment and guns around me, and I see him in his rear-view mirror, swearing at me. Then he flicks me off. So what do I do, I flash him a huge grin and then stick my tongue out at him. I know, real mature, Allyson. But seriously, what did he expect me to do? I couldn’t go any faster. I couldn’t safely get out of the way, and stopping would have greatly jeopardized both my safety and my chances for pedalling up the rest of the hill. I slowed him down for maybe 30 seconds–are people really so impatient that a 30-second inconvenience makes them full of rage and meanness? It totally wrecked my ride today, and it is making me reconsider my plan to commute to work on my bike. The road really does have more traffic than I expected, and I don’t want to deal with this kind of crap on a bike. It’s bad enough when I’m driving and things like this happen.

So I am looking at my legs, and I still have flecks of black grease on the skin above my knees. Hmm. . .last week, I nearly scrubbed myself raw trying to clean up my thighs. And then I sheepishly realized that I was trying to wash off my tan. I think we need more light in the bathroom.

Anyways, back to my diatribe against mean drivers, and I know that NONE of my wonderful blog readers is a mean driver, but when you see a cyclist on the road, cut him or her some slack. They are trusting you to not kill them, and while they might be an inconvenience to you, you are also an inconvenience to them. And they have just as much right to be on that road as you do. Cheer them on, pray for them, slow down, and for heaven’s sake, give them some room! Sometimes cyclists have to be further into the lane than anyone likes. That is because the roads have holes, sewer grates, dead animals, branches, broken glass, and other debris that can seriously jeopardize a cyclist’s safety. We really aren’t trying to be a nuisance, but sometimes, we have to be. Please be patient. Please be understanding. Please protect us.