It's an Easter thing very often. Sun comes out, school's off, kid's are bored and look for trouble. I used to get water bombs in the park very often at Easter. Last time this happened, a gang of kids was sitting by the gates of the park, most of the kids ran out of the park after they hit me but one ran in. Big mistake. It took me about 20 seconds to catch up with him over the grass. I wasn't at all polite and told him where I was going to stuff the other water balloon he had in his hand if he even thought about chucking that one too.
anybody else get much aggro from kids?
- Thread starter ninjajebus
- Start date
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Its normally Castlemilk Neds that are my main danger and so far only snowballs. A snowball in the face at 20mph is no laughing matter.
But they have made me chuckle too - there was a bunch who shouted in unison "G..." "A..." "Y..." "GAY!!" as I cycled by in my lycra.
But they have made me chuckle too - there was a bunch who shouted in unison "G..." "A..." "Y..." "GAY!!" as I cycled by in my lycra.
biggs682
Touch it up and ride it
- Location
- Northamptonshire
i had 2 yobs try to race me on there bmxs a few weeks ago it was nice to change gear and just ride away
Moodyman said:
You mean like all the drivers featured extensively by posters here? I think one of the biggest problems facing social systems in the UK is the way we have demonised teenagers and seem unwilling to engage between generations.
This comment (among others above) is sadly typical. I teach in a huge (2400) secondary school, cycle 10miles min to work every day and the only hassle I get is from adults.
Not prepared to say which ones though...
Time for a tale from he North...
John Leach (it may be his real name), a lantern-jawed, big-knuckled hard man from East Lancs Road Club, was out with his mates on a mid-week training run and was coming home to Burnley mid-evening. It was the middle of summer: still well light but late enough for some of the local lads to have downed a few pints and be moving on to another boozer.
The sprint for the thirty sign strung them out and John, whose sprint was never the best, noticed a party of youths who took turns jumping out into the roadway in front of the approaching cyclists. This had happened two or three times, and John could see them getting ready as he and two others cruised into town.
But John was never much of a man for cruising. He could see what was about to happen, so he kept pedalling, held his pace, held his line and, as the appointed drunken galoot jumped out in front of him, ducked his head at the last minute.
Ten seconds later John was getting up off the road, giving the bars a quick wrench to straighten them, while the other writhed on the tarmac, one hand at his groin and the other over his broken and bleeding face.
"Jesus," said the injured one's friend. "Why doncha look where yer ****in' goin' pal!"
"Oh we were both looking where I was going,' said John, swinging his leg back over the saddle. "Difference is, I'm still goin, but matey boy there's only going to the hospital."
John Leach (it may be his real name), a lantern-jawed, big-knuckled hard man from East Lancs Road Club, was out with his mates on a mid-week training run and was coming home to Burnley mid-evening. It was the middle of summer: still well light but late enough for some of the local lads to have downed a few pints and be moving on to another boozer.
The sprint for the thirty sign strung them out and John, whose sprint was never the best, noticed a party of youths who took turns jumping out into the roadway in front of the approaching cyclists. This had happened two or three times, and John could see them getting ready as he and two others cruised into town.
But John was never much of a man for cruising. He could see what was about to happen, so he kept pedalling, held his pace, held his line and, as the appointed drunken galoot jumped out in front of him, ducked his head at the last minute.
Ten seconds later John was getting up off the road, giving the bars a quick wrench to straighten them, while the other writhed on the tarmac, one hand at his groin and the other over his broken and bleeding face.
"Jesus," said the injured one's friend. "Why doncha look where yer ****in' goin' pal!"
"Oh we were both looking where I was going,' said John, swinging his leg back over the saddle. "Difference is, I'm still goin, but matey boy there's only going to the hospital."
Moodyman
Legendary Member
You mean like all the drivers featured extensively by posters here?
That's why I said 'intelligent adults'. Not all adults think / behave the same and this is why I singled out intelligent ones.
But you're right, the small number of cycling incidents I've had, have all been with motorists. This is usually the result of bad judgement or error, rather than vindictive behaviour.
But kids are kids - whether on a bike or during running. Go past a group of kids, and you'll always get comments - ssually funny ones. This is why I laugh them off.
That's why I said 'intelligent adults'. Not all adults think / behave the same and this is why I singled out intelligent ones.
But you're right, the small number of cycling incidents I've had, have all been with motorists. This is usually the result of bad judgement or error, rather than vindictive behaviour.
But kids are kids - whether on a bike or during running. Go past a group of kids, and you'll always get comments - ssually funny ones. This is why I laugh them off.
Arch
Married to Night Train
- Location
- Salford, UK
There was a little gang out pestering us last week collecting the recycing. Two of them wanted a tow from the trike, and I just couldn't be bothered so I just sped up. They scooted along to catch me, and just as they caught up to reach out and grab the back, I jammed the brakes on.
One sailed past, confused, and from his expression I think the other might have run into the back....
Little buggers weren't put off and hassled us for some minutes more, climbing on the saddle and helpfully loosening the brakes (hydraulic discs on the rear, and a v on the front.). When one of them tried to ride it off, over my foot, I really lost my rag...
My colleagues are more laid back, and I know I ought to follow suit, but really, I'd happily have shot the lot of them if I'd had a gun....
One sailed past, confused, and from his expression I think the other might have run into the back....
Little buggers weren't put off and hassled us for some minutes more, climbing on the saddle and helpfully loosening the brakes (hydraulic discs on the rear, and a v on the front.). When one of them tried to ride it off, over my foot, I really lost my rag...
My colleagues are more laid back, and I know I ought to follow suit, but really, I'd happily have shot the lot of them if I'd had a gun....
