Maybe I should have kept my middle finger on the handlebars.
Maybe berating a cyclist going ~15mph in the bike lane wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea.
Maybe I should have shown better judgment in the kind of person I was flashing my God-given peace finger to.
Maybe you and your partner were grouchy, and I was cold, wet, and didn’t have the patience for your accusations.
I had a silly occurrence happen last night in the dark, on roads uncomfortably close to home. I’ll tell the quick version of the story while it's still fresh on my mind.
Last night (10/25) I was riding home from Cyclocross practice, a 4-mile trip when I made the decision to go up a hill and take a left at the top. I usually avoid this maneuver during heavier traffic in favor of a more industrial and low-traffic frontage road. However, around 8 pm traffic has generally subsided enough that the road and intersections are quiet, and this night was similar. I took a left, merging into traffic, and had a healthy 10-ish second gap to the vehicle behind me. The road is a simple two-lane, 35mph city road with no shoulder or middle lane. It has an elevated sidewalk that I don't ride on due to the pitch of the road (steep down), and it doesn’t offer good visibility into intersections. Knowing this, I took the lane (read: the middle) and got up to ~25mph on the downhill. The car behind caught up to me about ~200ft before a red light, and we both cruised to the stopping line. I stopped, waited a few seconds while the intersection cleared of traffic, and pedaled through. Not that it matters, but the light changed green a second or two after I made it safely to the other side.
Look, I’ve had lots of people berate and yell at me while riding my road bike. It comes with the territory. Usually, it’s just “get off the road!” and they speed off, mildly inconvenienced. Sometimes, people will slow down and get level with me, but the road and winds are loud at 20mph, and a quick point to my ears signaling I can’t hear them generally stops them from wasting their time. Occasionally I get people encouraging me or being nice, but my defense mechanism kicks in, and I rarely recognize it for what it is.
Last night, though, an older Subaru pulled level with me shortly after the red light. In the passenger seat was a large, angry-looking woman saying some words I could kind of make out. They were the usual ramble.
“Get out of the middle of the lane!” Note: I was literally in the bike lane…
“Stop at red lights!” I did.
“You know, you shouldn’t be riding on the road if you can’t keep up with the speed of traffic.”
Blah blah blah. I’ve heard it before. This lady’s tone was incredibly bitchy, and, even if I could only hear one word for every three, it was easy to discern what she was trying to say. My first mistake was not just letting them go, but she wouldn’t shut up and just let me be cold in peace. About 5 seconds into this lecture-like tirade I took my left hand off the handlebars and gave them the ol’ 1-gun salute. Mistake? Most definitely. I’ll tell you what was hilarious, though. Why, even though what follows was scary and got my heart pumping, it was worth it.
The screeching. Oh, my goodness, the screeching that came from that vehicle when I had the audacity to flash a finger at them.
“AHhhh! You mother-f_cker! B-------TCH!!!”
I was like a cartoon, the way that lady went from being generally condescending to full-on meltdown. I don’t want to say it was funnier because she looked quite fat and unhealthy, but it added comedic value. The driver honked, the lady yelled, and they sped down the same street I was stuck on for another 1/2-mile. Shortly after the initial interaction, I noticed the car had slowed down, not as slow as me, but slow enough that I got a little paranoid. I turned my front light off about the same time the car turned left and parked at the intersection where I planned to go right. A bigger guy in a sweatshirt got out of the car and started yelling at me, walking toward the opposite side of the road. I'm sure he wanted to cut me off at the intersection, but as he started getting closer and louder, I took a quick right and sped off. I don't care to assume what his intentions were, and I wasn't keen to find out. He chased me on foot for about 15ft, yelling undiscernible but not-so-pleasant things as he did so. Props to him, I’m sure that was the most physical activity he’s done in 10 years. I could make out a distant “f_ggot!” As I left the scene, careful to cut through a couple of yards and alleyways as I made my way back home.
All that over a middle finger. Dramatic. On a positive note, the interaction got my heart pumping enough that I didn't remember being cold by the time I ended my ride.
I’ll be more careful when and where I pull out the bird, next time.
And end scene. Now you know why I never flip the bird from the bike, even when being run off the road by a drunk. Glad you're OK.