The bike ride I took on Sunday only helped cement the spring fever in my psyche. Now I have ridden a few times this winter. The longer rides were mostly on the fat tire cycle over snow and ice. There were a few skinny tire errand running trips round town. There was one aspect of this trip that truly got me into riding season...I got called an asshole.
Yep a true sign of spring. I was on Manhattan Drive and at the point, near Champlain Street where the West bound traffic goes from one lane to two took the lane. I'll be damned if I'm gonna get stuck on the right shoulder while cars swerve around me on the left only to realize they then need to cut right to get on to the 127 belt-line where 95% of the traffic on this street goes. Truth be told it's probably only 200 yards from where I turn onto Manhattan to where the lanes diverge and when I turned on there was no other traffic moving west. So I'm not sure how long I was inconveniencing this particular fellow but it couldn't have been more than 5 to 10 seconds. When the lanes split I moved into the left hand lane, which is designated for going straight. Directly ahead was a red light. The red truck behind me felt the need to rev the old engine and tear around me to enter the right hand turning lane and get 50 feet ahead of me to stop at said red light.
Now as he passed I could feel his glare and see him taking extra care to get a good look at me. While he waited at the light I could sense his gaze was still on me and as I got closer I could see him checking me out in his side view mirror and over his shoulder out the open window. There was still silence between us a this point but an obvious tension was present.
So I did what most people would do in this situation. I waved.
Not a little two finger salute, or a swipe of the hand but a big, "Hi, howya doin'" with eye contact and a big grin (I was out on my bike). Maybe my wave was a little too big, cause this was the real offender. The straw that broke the camel's back, if you will. Before he was glaring at me with mild distaste and a little incredulity. Now he was openly disgusted. This is when he started shaking his head and with a look on his face like he just smelled something awful he said it, "Asshole." He didn't yell it but since his window was down I heard him. and that's why it is a sure sign of spring. That comment which in the dead of winter would have gone unnoticed, but since it was very spring like on Sunday and my friend in the red pickup had his windows down, I heard him.
I can be thankful that in Burlington this type of thing doesn't happen very often. Although since it doesn't, I haven't really built up a tolerance to this type of verbal abuse from strangers as many other cyclists have. So I carried the exchange with me. It weighed heavy and I thought of it often through the early part of the week but I know I did nothing wrong. I'll just keep riding and enjoy spring.
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