Originally Posted by 5teve

I posted this in 2008 on another forum:

I was having a pretty good ride last night down around Mason, enjoying the coolish but sunny weather. About 20 miles in, I had just turned onto a little country road and was approaching a small hill. As I started my climb, I noted a car behind me--it was hanging back which didn't cause me any alarm--there were a couple of on-coming cars just cresting the hill and there wasn't room to pass. Once they'd cleared, I heard the car behind me accelerate so I glanced again in my mirror, and saw they'd swung well into the left lane to overtake (good) but that a young fellow on the passenger side was leaning out the window with his fist raised. (not good!) I just had time to think, "aw crap," before they passed and I felt a light impact on my left hand--they'd thrown a 1/2-eaten hot dog in a bun at me! Lots of yellow mustard, it seemed--I had some on my glove and all over my brake hood and lever.

I was pissed, of course--raised up the ol' single finger salute. But here's the kicker--these guys had just pulled out of a driveway I'd passed at the base of the hill. I'd seen them getting into the car when I rode by! I've had to shrug off a few rude drivers over the years; this seemed a chance to get in a return shot. So, after a moment's consideration, I turned around and rode back to the house. Rang the doorbell, and another young fellow answered--he claims he surely had no idea who might've left the place in a white Grand Am about three minutes ago. Well, heck, why would he? So I told him "well, I'll just call the cops-maybe they can help you remember." Walking my bike down the drive, I pulled out my cell phone (first time I've had to use it for a ride occurence since I bought it for just this purpose a few years back) and call the sheriff's office. I was shaking, reaction, anger and the chill air once I'd stopped moving, but I felt pretty determined to see it through at this point.

The dispatcher took the address info and an outline of the story, and told me to wait there "if I didn't feel in any danger," and an officer would be there directly. The kid in the house seemed more sheepish than pissed, so I stuck around.

I chewed on a Clif bar to calm myself while waiting, and wished I could have just had a nice ride instead of standing there watching the mustard dry on my brake lever. I had time to wonder if the cop would be supportive, whether I should've just let it slide. After a few minutes, a car approached and slowed. It pulled into the driveway and a 40ish woman looked over at me. I walked over and told her my tale of woe. To her credit, she was immediately sympathetic and angry at the kids--the driver was her son, and she allowed that a grounding with no car might help him resist similar acts in the future. We talked a bit, and then she went inside. She came right back out again, said "I knew where they went, so I've called them to get back here and apologize. They were pretty shocked that you were here!" She then stayed outside with me until the Deputy arrived He was very professional and took the act seriously. He asked me if I wanted to press charges of assault. I told him if we could give the kids a talking to, I'd settle for an apology and a promise to not do such things in the future, which is pretty much what I got when they got back shortly after. They were pretty sheepish, pretty obviously more sorry they'd been caught than for the act, but for 17-18 year old males, pretty contrite. I was a hell-raiser myself at that age, responsible for more than my share of stupid stunts, so I told them, "you'll look back on this when you're my age and wonder how you could've ever been such a dumb ass." The driver even got a wet cloth and cleaned off my brake hood so I could ride back to my car without getting more mustard on my glove.

Talking with the mom and then the cop had pretty much drained my anger about the whole thing and I was even a bit embarrassed at the stink I'd made, justified though I think it was. Plus I was quite chilled and it was getting late and I really just wanted to go home. I joked with the kids a little more than I had planned and in hindsight I wonder if they really got the scare I wanted them to. I spent a lot of time last night second guessing myself about what I said, should have said and so on. But all in all, I think they were forced to acknowledge that someone on a bike was not a target for cheap laughs and that maybe pitching garbage at a stranger from a speeding car wasn't the best way to amuse oneself. In the end, I just hope that is the lesson that sticks...like mustard.

I've been riding these roads for 15 years now, and this is the first time I've actually been contacted by anything--the occasional shouted swear word or impatient passer, but never before have anyone actually reached out and touched me, as it were. I am somewhat pleased that I was able to reach right back in this instance!

Originally Posted by MikeyMK

There's a time and a place where someone's going to be rational, and prepared to listen. And then there's a time and a place when any attempt to do so will be fruitless at best, and disastrous at worst.

I'm guessing you guys on these six pages are able to understand this, though i'm sure it'll be easier for some than others.

Originally Posted by Jim from Boston

…How to get the message out? I find threads about what to say to a driver futile, since these are brief, often emotion laden encounters, and often the cyclist makes a bad impression

I have in the past posted about giving “bicyclist curses,” and “bicyclist blessings”; about 5 blessings a day, and about 3 curses a week.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jim from Boston

…I have those exact thoughts whenever I am passed, even when not tooclose by motorist who does not slow down or move over slightly, just as an indication that they notice me.

I always think those self-absorbed cagers are only restrained by the thought of scratching their cars, or the hassle of filing police reports.

My only satisfactory retribution is to give them my previously-described Bicyclist Curse. (I repeatedly jab my pointed right index finger in their direction, while shouting an accusatory, ”You, you, you…”). The possibility of metaphysical retribution is more satisfying than the middle finger.

I do also bestow Bicyclist Blessings on drivers who show even a modicum of respect, with a wave of the hand….

Originally Posted by wphamilton

"Bad drivers" as in dangerous traffic infractions, or zombie-driving, I don't mind registering my objection with them. Hopefully in a restrained manner. But for the bad drivers who shout out of their windows or do something ridiculous seemingly on purpose, the motto is: don't engage the crazies.

Originally Posted by JoeyBike

Just in case I failed to throw in my 2 cents:

I never confront a bad driver. That said...

Once every five years or so i MIGHT punch a car but the stoopidity has to be really severe and I have a good escape plan.

Originally Posted by parkbrav

One late autumn day, on two totally different parts of a 10 mile commute, I caught two micro aggressions, both from teenage kids rolling down the window and blurting out one of the "f" words at me. Why? what does that accomplish? Did they just fail a test at high school?