The Myth of the Arrogant Cyclist is pervasive. It doesn't take much of a thought experiment to realize how absurd it would be for me to ride my 20 pound bike in the middle of busy roads just so I can "teach some motorists a lesson." Nevertheless, it's quite clear that many drivers don't understand that, while I'm not actually trying to slow them down, my safety takes precedence over their convenience.
Apparently, there are cyclists that don't realize this either.
Case in point. Park Street is a favorite corridor into downtown for those who prefer to be stuck in traffic on a narrow, winding road as opposed to being stuck in traffic on an eight lane highway with a stoplight every quarter mile. In response, the City has installed a number of "traffic calming" devices that create a number of dangers for cyclists, including narrow and winding lanes and lots of jutting curbs at intersections.
Since mig selv neither rides in the door zone nor does the curb-hugger weave, I was riding down the middle of the lane at 15-20 out of a possible 25 MPH one morning after dropping Syd off at school. An SUV driver didn't really care for my technique and gave me a toot from his horn when he finally found a place to pass. I kind of chuckled when I saw that his license plate read "I TRI" -- the unmistakable sign of a triathlete -- and when he turned into a parking lot 100 feet later, I decided to ask him what his problem was.
"You can't ride in the middle of the street!" he demanded.
"Yes, I can," I replied, reasonably calmly, "if the road is too narrow to share."
He proceeded to give me the "I'm a cyclist, too" speech, complete with telling me where and when I should ride and how I was doing it all wrong, and blah, blah, blah.
I cut him off and reiterated, "I'm not going to ride in the door zone; that's a good way to get myself killed." To which he replied,
"That's the price you pay for riding in the city."
See? Some cyclists really are assholes.
Apparently, there are cyclists that don't realize this either.
Now, I'm far from one of these people who thinks that the common bond between two strangers on bikes somehow makes them instant friends. Sure, I'll occasionally respond with a wave just to make the original waver happy, but really, I could hardly care less if we're both on two wheels. I mean, some people are just assholes whatever they're doing.
Case in point. Park Street is a favorite corridor into downtown for those who prefer to be stuck in traffic on a narrow, winding road as opposed to being stuck in traffic on an eight lane highway with a stoplight every quarter mile. In response, the City has installed a number of "traffic calming" devices that create a number of dangers for cyclists, including narrow and winding lanes and lots of jutting curbs at intersections.
Since mig selv neither rides in the door zone nor does the curb-hugger weave, I was riding down the middle of the lane at 15-20 out of a possible 25 MPH one morning after dropping Syd off at school. An SUV driver didn't really care for my technique and gave me a toot from his horn when he finally found a place to pass. I kind of chuckled when I saw that his license plate read "I TRI" -- the unmistakable sign of a triathlete -- and when he turned into a parking lot 100 feet later, I decided to ask him what his problem was.
"You can't ride in the middle of the street!" he demanded.
"Yes, I can," I replied, reasonably calmly, "if the road is too narrow to share."
He proceeded to give me the "I'm a cyclist, too" speech, complete with telling me where and when I should ride and how I was doing it all wrong, and blah, blah, blah.
I cut him off and reiterated, "I'm not going to ride in the door zone; that's a good way to get myself killed." To which he replied,
"That's the price you pay for riding in the city."
See? Some cyclists really are assholes.
