Yesterday evening's commute heralded that all too rare occassion of when I actually managed to catch up with a close passing driver.
I first noticed him and his black VW Golf stationary at the front of the queue at the traffic lights. I had filtered to the front and positioned myself just in front of him but as I took off promptly from the lights he passed me with no problems, not especially carefully, but certainly not too close.
The main things I noticed about him were:
a) Two bumper stickers stating "My brakes are excellent, how's your insurance" and "the closer you get, the slower I go"
Wow... a considerate motorist clearly worried about safety on the highway, I thought.
b) A small smurf dangling from his rear towbar hook.
Perhaps a 17 year old girl, I thought.
Anyway. Some two miles down the road I pass him again. This time he's stuck in the queue at the lights and I filter to the front again. Didn't think anymore of it until he races past me at around 45 mph in a 30 with inches to spare from my pannier.
Now I didn't think he'd done it intentionally, unless he was annoyed that he was making less progress in his car than I was on my bike, I just presumed it was careless and absent-minded rather than malicious, but I still shook my fist and shouted at the pass as an instant reaction. 100 yards down the road he'd had to slam on for another set of lights which is where I approached from the passanger side. I lowered my face to the window (which he lowered) and I actually surprised myself at the politeness of my comments, but it was possibly influenced by the shaven-headed, pitbull resembling, meat-head that sat staring at me...
Me: "That was too close mate"
Him (in finest North-End of Birkenhead accent): "I don't give a f***"
Me: "I'm just asking politely that you give me a bit more room next time".
Him: "Get that thing (pointing at the bike) off the f***ing road and on the f***ing pavement..."
It was at this part of the rant that I decided to leave him to it. So he decided to rev and lurch his car forwards and sideways in an attempt to either scare or knock me off whilst simultaneously beeping his horn and flashing his lights... To be honest I was amazed that he had the brain capacity to even attempt more than one thing at once, but then I realised I was potentially in a lot of trouble. I was now ahead of him and he was going to have to overtake me again, when essentially he'd just signalled his intentions. If the previous close pass was unintentional I didn't want to experience an intentional one.
Fortunately I made it through the hazardous area of parked cars straight after the lights and he passed me at a particularly wide stretch. He pulled alongside me and shouted something which unfortunately I didn't catch through the window before speeding off into the distance. I don't think it was "Chapeau sir, good evening to you".
So what's the moral of the tale? What would I have done differently?
Nothing actually. Despite the feeling in my gut that he'd been such a c*ck, I'd feel a hell of a lot worse if I'd had the opportunity to say something to him and chickened out. Perhaps I was lucky he hadn't knocked me off? Nah, most of the time these guys are all talk no trousers. Not on a busy main road with witnesses left, right and centre. Still, I obviously feel bitter about the incident though. I'm off to Argos to buy a punchbag.
I first noticed him and his black VW Golf stationary at the front of the queue at the traffic lights. I had filtered to the front and positioned myself just in front of him but as I took off promptly from the lights he passed me with no problems, not especially carefully, but certainly not too close.
The main things I noticed about him were:
a) Two bumper stickers stating "My brakes are excellent, how's your insurance" and "the closer you get, the slower I go"
Wow... a considerate motorist clearly worried about safety on the highway, I thought.
b) A small smurf dangling from his rear towbar hook.
Perhaps a 17 year old girl, I thought.
Anyway. Some two miles down the road I pass him again. This time he's stuck in the queue at the lights and I filter to the front again. Didn't think anymore of it until he races past me at around 45 mph in a 30 with inches to spare from my pannier.
Now I didn't think he'd done it intentionally, unless he was annoyed that he was making less progress in his car than I was on my bike, I just presumed it was careless and absent-minded rather than malicious, but I still shook my fist and shouted at the pass as an instant reaction. 100 yards down the road he'd had to slam on for another set of lights which is where I approached from the passanger side. I lowered my face to the window (which he lowered) and I actually surprised myself at the politeness of my comments, but it was possibly influenced by the shaven-headed, pitbull resembling, meat-head that sat staring at me...
Me: "That was too close mate"
Him (in finest North-End of Birkenhead accent): "I don't give a f***"
Me: "I'm just asking politely that you give me a bit more room next time".
Him: "Get that thing (pointing at the bike) off the f***ing road and on the f***ing pavement..."
It was at this part of the rant that I decided to leave him to it. So he decided to rev and lurch his car forwards and sideways in an attempt to either scare or knock me off whilst simultaneously beeping his horn and flashing his lights... To be honest I was amazed that he had the brain capacity to even attempt more than one thing at once, but then I realised I was potentially in a lot of trouble. I was now ahead of him and he was going to have to overtake me again, when essentially he'd just signalled his intentions. If the previous close pass was unintentional I didn't want to experience an intentional one.
Fortunately I made it through the hazardous area of parked cars straight after the lights and he passed me at a particularly wide stretch. He pulled alongside me and shouted something which unfortunately I didn't catch through the window before speeding off into the distance. I don't think it was "Chapeau sir, good evening to you".
So what's the moral of the tale? What would I have done differently?
Nothing actually. Despite the feeling in my gut that he'd been such a c*ck, I'd feel a hell of a lot worse if I'd had the opportunity to say something to him and chickened out. Perhaps I was lucky he hadn't knocked me off? Nah, most of the time these guys are all talk no trousers. Not on a busy main road with witnesses left, right and centre. Still, I obviously feel bitter about the incident though. I'm off to Argos to buy a punchbag.
(That was a couple of miles from where I grew up.)
