I’m going to take this one on the chin and say it was my own fault. Riding through town is asking for trouble, even on a Sunday morning.
Long story short, I was cycling up to the traffic lights. Before the lights is a junction to enter a retail park. Two cars approached – they could see me, I was the only oncoming traffic, it’s a wide open road and I’m highly visible.
As I got closer the first car cut across with plenty of room to spare.
The second hesitated, then cut across right in front of me. He knew he’d done wrong as he immediately apologised – but I’d already lost my rag and given him the finger. So that set him off. Cue him getting out of the car and having a go.
It ruined my ride. Just no need. I explained as much, mostly with a few hastily strung together four letter expletives, but even so I figured he was going to chase me and run me over. After that I figured I’d had enough and went home via bike paths.
Yeah. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. But that action of motorists stopping and getting out… what is that all about? I half expected to get shot in the back as I pedalled away, legs shaking from all the stress hormones dumped into my blood stream.
It’s such a shame.
There’s a whole world out there to explore and yet I so often feel as of late that I should jack it in and stay indoors.
