I get to drive in peace. The windows can be down without the fear of getting crazy people coming up asking me for change when at a stop light. And the only fear of having your windows open while driving is swallowing a bug. Minor compared to getting stabbed [okay, maybe getting stabbed is a bit far stretched, but Hey, look what just happened in Vancouver] For the most part, you have an open road and take advantage by cruising at the speed you wish.
So why would today be any different?
I woke up to the sun shinning through my window, the warmth was enough to make me jump out of bed and get going. As I flip through the flyers, coffee mug in hand, I keep in mind I really need to get an idea for a Father's Day gift or I'm doomed! Half way through the pile, the idea [and the deal!] just come to me like any other bright idea of mine. "That's it," I say to myself. And, just while we're on this topic, Yes, I do talk to myself when no one is home.
I grab my sunnies and my flyer and walk out the door with an unusual bounce in my step as I hold the keys to my mom's SUV. The engine purrs and I excitedly open the windows for my leisurely drive into town on this gorgeous day.
As soon as I turn onto my road however, I soon realize there is nothing glorious about this drive. Let me just start by saying, I hate cycling. I am a very active person, but if you gave me the choice of a box on wheels, or a bike, I would choose the box. Nothing about the sport appeals to me, especially the tight spandex outfit that seems to come with it. I am very health conscious and love the fact of going green for the environment, so usually seeing a cyclist doesn't bother me. And I have lived in big cities where the main source of transportation is cycling, however, they have designated lanes and they know they are at the bottom of the food chain when it comes to big vehicles. But in the country, cyclists like to challenge that "status-quo". I was only 50 ft from the driveway when I passed the first group of cyclists. Then only another 50ft until the next group of six cyclists pass me. "Wow, must be a day for bikers," I mumble under my breath, as I hope this is the end of my run-in's with them. As I go around the bend and up the hill, I swear out loud as the road reveals swarms of them! Several clusters of threes and fours take over the road as I make my way towards town. You would think that in this situation the smaller things on the road would be swerving to avoid the bigger thing (aka. ME!) however, this was definitely not the case. These bikers just took over the road like it was their job. Biking in the middle of the road to the edge, and back over across the other lane of traffic. Just the thought of passing these crazy hooligans upset my stomach, as in all country roads, they are anything but flat and straight. Passing them on a whim would be like signing my own death certificate.
"Please, be my guest, its not like this road is made as a direct route for people to get into town, and not just a leg of the race that you are in!" I was getting frustrated. If I wanted to drive into town going 20km/h then I would have hopped in my box and joined you.
I think it was mostly the fact that these cyclists knew they were in my way and did nothing about it that fueled my anger. On many occasions they turned around, only to reveal that I was right on their ass and showing a displeased face, and they just continued on biking in the middle of the road anyway. Have some common courtesy. How come being in a cross-country race takes away the simple rules of the road to you, but still apply to me?
I tightened my grip around the wheel as I talked myself out of pulling over the car and getting out to punch someone. I was clearly out numbered in this situation.
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