Kings of the Road

In the most recent of many vain attempts at self-improvement, I am cycling to and from work. I live at the top of a hill, so the way to the office in the morning is a breeze. The way back, however, is a beast. I seem to be sticking with it, though, at least so far, because of both my awesome levels of determination and the happy realisation that I can afford to give up on my existing press-up routine now that I’m getting some other exercise. Possibly more the second thing.

Some insights:

1. It is impossible for a cyclist to avoid being overcome with self-righteousness. I’m greener, leaner and meaner (in the economic sense) than all the bastard cars swarming around me and only partly because I can’t afford to run my own car and wouldn’t know how to operate one even if I could. This is a great feeling and one that frequently affords me the chance to swear loudly at (or at least think murderous thoughts about) my fellow road users, whose fault it almost certainly isn‘t, whatever it may be. A cyclist is quite simply never in the wrong.

2. Car drivers are more aware of the safety of other road users than cyclists. Because it isn’t our concern. We can’t hurt people (at least not really), but we can certainly be hurt. I have to say, though, that I expect a great deal more awareness and, well, competence from car drivers than I display myself. Me wobbling around (albeit at hilariously and possibly illegally low speeds) on a bike is basically the equivalent of a toddler behind the wheel of a car. Thank God most drivers seem to know what they’re doing, because I certainly don’t. I’m terrified that they will assume the same level of competency in me that I do in them. So far they don’t, possibly because of the aforementioned wobbling.

3. Good (by which I mean indulgent, patient and most likely pitying) car drivers treat cyclists like idiots. We require at least 1.5 metres of wobble room, dramatic reduction of your speed and probably a few extra minutes added to your journey, as well as constant vigilance. We offer nothing in return. Why, questionable moral superiority notwithstanding, do cyclists have the right to expect such indulgence from car drivers? We offer nothing and expect everything, it seems to me. Mystifyingly, this deal seems to be upheld on our nation’s roads. Flip knows why.

Cycling, then: practised by self-righteous, reckless and incompetent fools for their own benefit entirely. And car drivers get a bad press.