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September 27, 2006
TNH 2182
At some point in your driving life you will find yourself behind a person on a bicycle who is riding right down the center of his lane or who, at the very least, seems to be taking up more of the lane than you think is appropriate. You will wonder why he doesn't move more to the berm to allow you to pass.
He is probably trying to discourage you from passing him. But why me? you ask.
It isn't about you. Maybe the road is just a tad too narrow to safely allow for same-lane passing and the rider isn't comfortable providing you the extra space that might encourage you to try to pass him in his lane. Maybe the rider has encountered one to many jerks in automobiles and has just quit trying to play nice.
This rider probably started out as a very car-friendly rider.
And then, one day, he was tooling up High Street in Columbus, Ohio. Probably about 1987. Many many many cars maneuvered past him without any trouble. He was very polite ... keeping as far right as possible ... one eye on the parked cars in the curb lane looking out for the person eagerly waiting to open a door in front of him. The whole scenario was just a bit nerve wracking. Probably.
And then someone honked a horn. The rider looked back to find a petite, dumb, blond bitch in an SUV giving him the 'get out of my way' look.
Did you see the part about many many many cars passing successfully? If a petite dumb blond bitch is incapable of driving a vehicle because it's too big -- too freakin' bad for her.
I've always regretted not putting my kickstand down in the middle of the lane and walking back to the woman to ask her what her problem was. Honking is not a help. It's a startler.
I was as far right as practically possible. I was obeying the rules of the road. I had every right to be there. I was making room to pass.
Time would come and go. So much, in fact, that it was last night at 5:50 p.m. on Converse-Huff Road heading east and just before Lafayette-Plain City Road. So, actually, I guess time and distance passed.
Converse-Huff is narrow, but not so narrow that two semis couldn't pass each other in opposite directions if they slowed down and used some common sense. The Mighty Schwinn is big, but not semi big.
I was far right so, what little traffic there was, could pass when the rig -- I don't know what kind of tractor it was but it was pulling a trailer that had Cornhusker on it and spelled out on the trailer as if that was part of the name of the type of trailer. I'd really need to see the back end of this trailer to know if it was the exact same style ... I'll bet that if it isn't, that trailer, the trailer in question could be found at that website. (And that looks a lot like the trailer.)
So, there I was. I could tell by the sound the approaching vehicle made that it was a rig. As he rolled past I became a little bit nervous. And then he tooted his air horn. As you know these things are loud when they're blown in response to your kids making that pumping-arm motion and the noise rolls in through closed windows. They're louder when you're hoping the semi isn't going to crush you and the only thing deflecting the sound is a $30.00 bike helmet.
I was a tad upset.
And this would be a good time to note that had I been riding in the middle of the road the guy would have never gotten around me. He could have tooted all day. I'd have know why. I'd have expected it. I would have not almost crapped my bike shorts.
As the rig rolled by I got the trailer's license number. I don't know why. Just in case. It was TNH 2182. It was an Ohio tag.
We came to a stop sign. The rig was not pulling away from me all that fast. And then, somehow, he disappeared. For a minute I was convinced he'd turned down one of the farm lanes.
I thought back to the petite, dumb, blond bitch and how I'd regretted not parking in front of her and asking her what her problem was.
I turned the Mighty Schwinn around and went looking for TNH 2182. I figured that if the driver was hired help that the farmer he was working for would like to know what the driver was up to -- you know, from an insurance standpoint. If the driver was the farmer himself ... well, I thought that was unlikely, but I certainly wanted to hear his excuse for tooting his horn.
And I was going to punch him in the jaw. And laugh maniacally.
Well, maybe not. But since I didn't find the trailer in question I'm pretty much free to say what I want.
Posted by delmer at September 27, 2006 2:49 PM