Neither Bell Nor Voice
There is the occasional sign on the Burke-Gilman trail that says something like “Use bell or voice when passing.”
I don’t.
And I prefer that other people don’t either, at least when they’re passing me.
I understand the rationale for the admonition: you don’t want to be riding by someone when he or she suddenly swerves, knocking you over, breaking teeth, collarbones, and wrists. Better to give them a heads-up do you don’t both end up on the ground.
Inevitably, though, whenever someone calls “On your left” as they pass by me, I’m startled; if ever I’m going to be a menace to myself and a fellow rider, it’s right after they announce themselves unexpectedly. I’d much prefer they simply ease by and are gone before I ever notice.
Plus, I can’t help but feel something more than just a mere twinge of resentment when someone faster than me emphasizes their superior speed by using their voice. It’s like, “No shit, man. I heard your heavy breathing and the creaking of your carbon-fiber frame several hundred yards ago and I know that in your spandex outfit you totally ride like the wind, so shut up about it already and goodbye.”
If ever I were going to swerve just to give someone a hard time, this would be it.
Now, I’m not completely opposed to people letting others know that they are passing by, but I’m wary; a couple of months ago, there was this older lady walking her dog on the trail; I gave her a wide berth but didn’t ring my bell; she started yelling at me and I turned around to see what her trip was. She said she came from Holland where cyclists always rang their bells when passing pedestrians. I apologized and said in the future, I would try. Unfortunately, when I did so farther along the trail for the next walker, she stepped to the left, right straight into my path.
I don’t.
And I prefer that other people don’t either, at least when they’re passing me.
I understand the rationale for the admonition: you don’t want to be riding by someone when he or she suddenly swerves, knocking you over, breaking teeth, collarbones, and wrists. Better to give them a heads-up do you don’t both end up on the ground.
Inevitably, though, whenever someone calls “On your left” as they pass by me, I’m startled; if ever I’m going to be a menace to myself and a fellow rider, it’s right after they announce themselves unexpectedly. I’d much prefer they simply ease by and are gone before I ever notice.
Plus, I can’t help but feel something more than just a mere twinge of resentment when someone faster than me emphasizes their superior speed by using their voice. It’s like, “No shit, man. I heard your heavy breathing and the creaking of your carbon-fiber frame several hundred yards ago and I know that in your spandex outfit you totally ride like the wind, so shut up about it already and goodbye.”
If ever I were going to swerve just to give someone a hard time, this would be it.
Now, I’m not completely opposed to people letting others know that they are passing by, but I’m wary; a couple of months ago, there was this older lady walking her dog on the trail; I gave her a wide berth but didn’t ring my bell; she started yelling at me and I turned around to see what her trip was. She said she came from Holland where cyclists always rang their bells when passing pedestrians. I apologized and said in the future, I would try. Unfortunately, when I did so farther along the trail for the next walker, she stepped to the left, right straight into my path.
posted by Professor Dave at 8:52 PM
1 Comments:
Isn't it funny, I hate it when people try to let me know they are passing me, too - particularly the bells - they seem the most dorky. But I have often echoed your "no shit Sherlock, you think I didn't hear you" in that same internal shout I use for the "Aren't you a little old to be riding your bike on the sidewalk idiot??"
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