Geoff Crowther
"... travel far, not fast", Ted Simon
- Location
- Hayfield, High Peak
My lovely wife's recently taken early retirement whereas I finished with the world of work some while back.
Today I suggested a short bicycle excursion around Derwent res in Yorkshire. Those who know the place will know it's part tarmac and partly easy gravel, shared use trail. I used my mountain bike whilst my OH was on her trusty Giant hybrid. She's not overly confident on trails but we were enjoying the outing as she bimbled, a touch unsteadily, south from Slippery Stones. She was ahead as we approached two older (listen to me) ladies walking the same way. I was awaiting Chrissie's bell, knowing she's very good at alerting other trail users, gently to our presence before passing when, unannounced, another MTB rider flashed past me and then squeezed past Chrissie on her left side in a space barely wide enough, causing my nervous wife to stop, in alarm, almost falling over in the process.
I called to the rider, "Some warning would have been nice".
She, for it was a member of the fairer sex, stopped and asked me what the problem was.
I reiterated that a warning of approach might have been useful, whereupon she set about asking why we didn't know what was behind us..
"Don't you use lifesavers," quoth she.
" Not unless I'm changing direction," I replied.
" But she (Chrissie) was. She was weaving about all over the place."
This may well have had some truth in it, but I don't remember being asked for any certificate of competence before we embarked on our quiet little sojourn.
" So you don't think a bell would have helped. Oh, I see you don't have one." I said.
"Bells are dangerous. You should know what's going on behind you!"
Now, at this point I realised i was dealing with a young lady of the most arrogant nature who clearly thought that her startling my dear wife was not her fault but, in entirety, the result of Chrissie's inability to know, at all times, what was behind her, as she nervously negotiated her first trail route in a long time. So, realising I was unlikely to be able to re-educate this charming young woman in the short time I had available, I chose the shorter option and suggested she leave the scene, using some choice anglo saxon phrase. I know ... I should know better.
But, is it just me? I hate myself for saying this, but at 60 years of age I find it hard to take instruction from some arrogant yoof (she must have been in her 20s or early 30s) who's clearly only just graduated from stabilisers.
Her parting shot to me was that, "YOU are far more dangerous than WE are." Thereby categorising both herself and her mates as separate from us. Presumably "they" are red hot MTB gods whilst "we" are bumbling old farts? This, without knowing anything about our experience.
I'll restate this though. We were on a shared use trail, populated with cyclists of all persuasions, hillwalkers, kiddies afoot, little ones on bikes, folk with pushchairs ... you name it, NOT a dedicated, full-on, hardcore MTB route. And, I might add, littered with helpful little signs asking cyclists to consider other trail users and slow down on approach, not to mention one reminding us to call out or use a bell to warn of approach.
She was obviously a much cleverer person than me. However, in her excitement, she could not identify someone riding a hybrid bike, nervously down a shared use trail and amend her progress accordingly.
Interestingly, as I enjoyed this exchange, one of her mates quietly apologised to my OH for her friend's behaviour.
And the two lady walkers? I apologised to them for my poor language but one replied, " Well someone needed to point out the error of her ways."
I'm still ticking now. It's a cliche I know, but folk like her really do get cyclists, and especially MTB riders, a bad name. Wonder if she's on here?
Today I suggested a short bicycle excursion around Derwent res in Yorkshire. Those who know the place will know it's part tarmac and partly easy gravel, shared use trail. I used my mountain bike whilst my OH was on her trusty Giant hybrid. She's not overly confident on trails but we were enjoying the outing as she bimbled, a touch unsteadily, south from Slippery Stones. She was ahead as we approached two older (listen to me) ladies walking the same way. I was awaiting Chrissie's bell, knowing she's very good at alerting other trail users, gently to our presence before passing when, unannounced, another MTB rider flashed past me and then squeezed past Chrissie on her left side in a space barely wide enough, causing my nervous wife to stop, in alarm, almost falling over in the process.
I called to the rider, "Some warning would have been nice".
She, for it was a member of the fairer sex, stopped and asked me what the problem was.
I reiterated that a warning of approach might have been useful, whereupon she set about asking why we didn't know what was behind us..
"Don't you use lifesavers," quoth she.
" Not unless I'm changing direction," I replied.
" But she (Chrissie) was. She was weaving about all over the place."
This may well have had some truth in it, but I don't remember being asked for any certificate of competence before we embarked on our quiet little sojourn.
" So you don't think a bell would have helped. Oh, I see you don't have one." I said.
"Bells are dangerous. You should know what's going on behind you!"
Now, at this point I realised i was dealing with a young lady of the most arrogant nature who clearly thought that her startling my dear wife was not her fault but, in entirety, the result of Chrissie's inability to know, at all times, what was behind her, as she nervously negotiated her first trail route in a long time. So, realising I was unlikely to be able to re-educate this charming young woman in the short time I had available, I chose the shorter option and suggested she leave the scene, using some choice anglo saxon phrase. I know ... I should know better.
But, is it just me? I hate myself for saying this, but at 60 years of age I find it hard to take instruction from some arrogant yoof (she must have been in her 20s or early 30s) who's clearly only just graduated from stabilisers.
Her parting shot to me was that, "YOU are far more dangerous than WE are." Thereby categorising both herself and her mates as separate from us. Presumably "they" are red hot MTB gods whilst "we" are bumbling old farts? This, without knowing anything about our experience.
I'll restate this though. We were on a shared use trail, populated with cyclists of all persuasions, hillwalkers, kiddies afoot, little ones on bikes, folk with pushchairs ... you name it, NOT a dedicated, full-on, hardcore MTB route. And, I might add, littered with helpful little signs asking cyclists to consider other trail users and slow down on approach, not to mention one reminding us to call out or use a bell to warn of approach.
She was obviously a much cleverer person than me. However, in her excitement, she could not identify someone riding a hybrid bike, nervously down a shared use trail and amend her progress accordingly.
Interestingly, as I enjoyed this exchange, one of her mates quietly apologised to my OH for her friend's behaviour.
And the two lady walkers? I apologised to them for my poor language but one replied, " Well someone needed to point out the error of her ways."
I'm still ticking now. It's a cliche I know, but folk like her really do get cyclists, and especially MTB riders, a bad name. Wonder if she's on here?