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Attack Of The Spandex Warriors
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Attack Of The Spandex Warriors I have to admit that that I have a bit of a blind spot when I drive: cyclists bring out the ‘orrible cunt in me (strictly in the Donald Logan kind of way). Let us all be perfectly clear, it is not the little happily racing around in tricycles, adolescents riding two-wheelers with pink streamers and little white baskets, or even little old ladies on their 50 year old bikes with three sturmey-archer gears that get to me. But, line up a<b> spandex </font></b>wearing, 10 speed riding, Intel engineer fixating on the Tour de France, and I see a moving traffic violation in motion, a pedal pushing train wreck of epic proportions, and a being with more grille wearing potential than one of [blog Wickedwytch69]s beloved pheasants. Living in an area that has narrow roads (American style narrow roads rather than English style narrow roads) I am daily faced with the hazard of the modern fantasist and cyclist combined. These Walter Mittys have all bought into the fantasy that they are world class athletes and me, in my 2500 pound (plus) vehicle is expected to buy into this fantasy and cater to their every whim and caprice as they meander in front of me as I come around a corner at the speed limit. I know it is not my disbelief of the fantasy of these cyclists believing that they are a world class athlete competing against the best that makes me hate them. I had such a fantasy as a soccer player. I did not, however, play soccer in heavy traffic, believing myself to be Glenn Hoddle dribbling against oncoming SUVs. It could be that I just have a hatred of spandex; definitely a hatred of yellow spandex; and absolutely a pathological hatred of fluorescent yellow<b> spandex </font></b>that lights up the half light of early morning like a giant cheese explosion. Perhaps it is their cute little helmets that are expected to save their lives as they get sucked off the bike seat by a logging truck hurtling past at sixty miles an hour and smashing them upside down into a tree. Maybe it is those fuck-off nasty bike seats that still give me bad (bad, bad, bad, bad) memories of chafed inner thighs, a bruised arsehole, an incredibly sore nut sack and swollen balls from my youth. However, it just might be the giant bumblebee-like swarms of cyclists that I encounter every weekend, and lunchtime, wending their way down the local roads between where I live and the various and sundry Intel facilities that dot the local landscape. These poor, deluded fools who believe themselves to be part of the peleton ‒ yet not realizing that the real thing travels far in excess of local speed limits due to the incredible fitness and amazing capacity for steroids, hgh and re-oxygenated blood of the modern professional race cyclist. Or could it be their complete disregard for the rules of the road. No, I don’t think it could be that, could it? Well, thinking about it in a Zen-like state of meditation, it just might be. Fuck me. That’s it. Many of these cyclists have no regard for the drivers around them. Of course they are more than happy to point out everything automobile drivers do to endanger them. I have seen groups of cyclists clog up one lane of a road and force vehicles to pass them in the oncoming lane. The fact that onrushing drivers are coming around blind corners or up hills really isn’t a traffic safety issue (is it?) There is a certain joy to watching cyclists happily ride through red lights. Of course these same cyclists would be suffering road rage should a vehicle run a red light when they were watching. It is just different, if you know what I mean? Riding in bad light or near darkness without lights, riding against traffic, blocking traffic by pedaling up a hill in the middle of the road at five miles an hour, spitting on passing vehicles (really stupid when you have no protection what so ever), riding a bike and using a cell phone: I think I have dealt with pretty much everything over the years. Nothing surprises me when it comes to cyclists. They truly believe themselves to be bulletproof, immortal even. What I would love to see is a cop stop one of these arrogant arseholes and write them a ticket for some of their reckless and stupid behavior on the road: that I have yet to see. Who knows, one day perhaps, I will see such a thing. In the meantime, I will continue to drive with great trepidation whenever I crest a hill and find myself staring at some spandex-clad arse pointing to the sky as the cyclist pumps the pedals and sees himself as the great Lance, fighting it out against L’alp d’huez and it’s 7000 foot vertical climb. Think of me, friends, wrecking second gear in my transmission as I go 15 mph for a couple of miles. Think of me fighting off the urge to go PBA on the<b> spandex </font></b>warriors. Think about me, but not too much: you might miss that dumb fuck cyclist that just pulled out in front of you. ************************************************************************************************** I also have to admit that I consider myself to be a very good driver. I have been driving since I was 16 and have yet to be in a traffic accident. I have only had two speeding tickets in that time. It is not my own driving abilities, however, that concern me when it comes to dealing with cyclists. It is the inability to control the actions of others. 6  |
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4/1/2006 8:44 pm |
Here in the Twin Cities, we have loads upon loads of well-groomed and maintained Bicycle Trails. It never fails to amaze me to see the "Uber-Professional Fake Biker" eschew these trails and drive on the parkways intended for cars. I like to entertain a fantasy where I assign points to different riders based on the degree to which I take them out with my Mazda. Unfortunately (or, fortunately, rather) I usually see a Minneapolis cop right at the time my foot hovers over the accelerator, and reason sets in. But it's a fun fantasy nonetheless 
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4/2/2006 4:48 am |
LOL.........I hear ya Fallic ....I don't have the same problem but I agree they tend to make it difficult sometimes *sigh*
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4/2/2006 6:53 pm |
LOL!!!! Too funny and too true!!! Apparently the depth of depravity here is bottomless... don't you feel right at home? ~~~~~
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4/3/2006 7:08 pm |
P.S. I emailed parts of this to an old friend who is a biking fanatic and we always bicker about who has the right-of-way, needless to say, he was less than amused, ooops!!!  Apparently the depth of depravity here is bottomless... don't you feel right at home? ~~~~~
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FeistySyn, all of that spandex just squeezes the humour right out of them.
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