Originally Posted by
Chuckles1
Never in my 60 years of riding bikes has this happened before. I was near the top of a long, steep hill this morning, on a rural road that doesn't get much traffic, on the upslope as the grade gradually leveled out. I hadn't gained much speed yet, when an older small pickup truck approached. He was headed downhill, the opposite direction from me. I moved to the right edge of the pavement, as is my habit, and when about 25 yards from me, the truck veered my way and came right at me. On a whim I took my gravel bike today, as I haven't ridden it lately. Good thing I did, as I was able to ride off the road, through the ditch, and up onto a rough grassy area. I would likely have crashed on my usual bike with road tires.
I don't stop when I encounter crazy people, in case they have a gun or are homicidal, and was able to get back on the road without stopping. The old, white haired, white bearded man had his window down, and I said "what's your problem?" He had come to a stop at my edge of the pavement, and I was essentially beside him at that point, perhaps 12 feet away from him. He mumbled something, either "not my problem" or repeating my question, as in, "what's my problem? "
I don't know if he was asleep at the wheel, demented, or crazy, but it sure seemed like he deliberately tried to hit me head-on. I've got a call in to an emergency response leader in my small town; am hoping she'll know who this guy is, in case he needs help.
Cycling is a great pasttime, but there's always that element of danger. Gotta stay sharp!
I’ve done some touring on inlines.
One of those times I’m skating through empty countryside well outside peak tourist season.
Hasn’t seen a car in 45 minutes.
Then I see one approaching.
I think nothing of it, since he’s in the other lane, and there’s no one else to be concerned with.
But then I see him stick his head out the window, holler something incoherently and - quite deliberately - cross the dividing line and aim his car at me.
Right at this spot the shoulder was really hard packed bare soil, so I roll out on the shoulder.
Only to see him crank the wheel even further.
By now I’m going slow enough to be able to take a few running strides on the grassy slope into the ditch, leaving me a few feet of clearance to the car that sweeps by right at the spot I’ve just vacated.
Apparently he’s also feeding it some throttle at this time, since he begins to fishtail wildly across the road.
For some hundred yards it was anybody’s guess if he’d manage to stay on the road, or which ditch he’d end up in.
But eventually he got it under control and disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.
The strongest sense of relief was of course from not getting hit.
But nearly as strong a few hours later was the relief of not seeing him crash - because the way I felt when it happened, I might simply have left him in the wreckage and skated on.
Every now and then, after a particularly sad accident, someone will suggest mandatory alco-locks on all (new) cars.
Me, I’d rather see mandatory aggro-locks.
I believe I see more dangerous acts more reliably attributed to anger than to drunkenness.