Aargh - that reminds me of something that happened to me a couple of years ago!
I was climbing a local bridleway-come-farm-track on my MTB when I heard a vehicle accelerating up behind me. The track there was not wide enough for a vehicle and a bike so obviously the driver would wait for me to get to a point just ahead where it widened and I could get out of the way. Wouldn't (s)he?
Er, no... The driver continued to accelerate. It turned out to be a woman driving a newish-looking red van and she was clearly a very special person in a very big hurry, and she saw no need to wait 2.7 seconds for another human being who was in her way. Perhaps
Countdown was about to start and she didn't want to miss it?
The van began to pass on my left, but as I mentioned earlier - there wasn't room for both of us. Ms driver didn't fancy the 30 foot drop off the left of the track, so she made some space for herself by squeezing back over to the right and forcing me off the bridleway. The handlebars were knocked from my grip and I ended up in a tangled heap in a ditch full of stinging nettles

. The driver continued on her merry way, oblivious to my suffering.
Red mist time...



! I pulled my bike out of the ditch, remounted and set off in pursuit of my assailant. I found the van parked outside a farm cottage about half a mile further on so I jumped off my bike and was all set to hammer on the cottage door and confront the driver. Then I noticed the right side of the van... The knurled metal extension grip on my handlebar had left a lovely, very expensive-looking gouge about 4 feet long down the side of the van.
Ho ho - that would do! I decided not to stress myself further by getting into an argument with the driver, and carried on with my ride.
A couple of weeks later, I spotted the van in town and saw that the unrepaired gouge had gone rusty and was busy destroying the panel. Poetic justice. Still - what's up with those people

!