Mid-week, a couple rode in from Moultonborough on a tandem for a couple of quick adjustments. They ride a tandem because the stoker is blind. They reported that one or more drivers had yelled "fck you!" at them as they rode on Route 109.
I've mentioned before how the roads along the lake shore seem to attract a high percentage of assholes. I have had few incidents either on my commute or in my own neighborhood where there are no prestigious bodies of water. That all changes near any major lake in the state.
On Saturday's ride home, I got to the end of Bay Street in time to spot a "take it now or wait a while" gap, which I sprinted into. The intersection of Bay Street and 109A can be stressful when traffic is heavy with impatient drivers. The last two weeks of August have a hectic feel as vacationers rush to cram in the last of summer fun, and tired locals are more than ready to see the last of them for a while. Neither of these user groups has much patience for someone pedaling.
I made the gap cleanly in front of the line of cars coming up from my right. The leader of that bunch may have been setting up to turn left. There were vehicles coming from each of the three directions, far enough back to give me just enough time to go for it. If I had hesitated, I would have had to hover at the intersection for a long time while they sorted themselves out by pushing past me or cutting in front of me. So I made the left turn and faded to the right, settling into a steady climbing rhythm.
As the line of vehicles came up behind me, I heard continuous angry horn blasts. They weren't right behind me, so I knew they were directed at whoever was leading the bunch, who was apparently passing me too slowly and deliberately for the expert driver behind them. The honking continued as the first vehicle passed, and continued as the angry jerk in a black Mercedes SUV came through next. I expected a closer pass, but it's hard to manage the horn and the string of f-bombs and brush the cyclist's elbow all at once. He did say something about "fcking bicycle," but he sounded like his tantrum was already making him a bit short of breath. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or ranting to the person in the vehicle with him.
Some people are unbelievably territorial on the road. Anything smaller and slower offends them. How dare we be out there getting in their way, even if we aren't really? The problem is that any particle in the flow changes the flow. Do these drivers want to spend all of their time in concrete-lined chutes, running full throttle to their next vitally important destination? Do the particles in a particle accelerator get hooked on it?
A couple looking for a ride route earlier in the week had thought that they would ride the Cotton Valley Trail, but the husband had a full-on road bike with skinny tires. Sure, a skilled rider could manage the trail on that, but he would spend all his time concentrating on the many rail crossings and the less than ideal surface for such a small footprint. His wife had an e-hybrid. Since they'd driven to town to ride, I figured they wouldn't mind driving a little more to get to nicer roads, so I sent them to park in my driveway and ride in my neighborhood. They left a nice note afterward, taped to the porch rail, so it must have gone well.
We're approaching the end of my bike commuting season, as darkness encroaches on the evening half of the ride. Elm Street in Ossipee is really bad in the dark, as drivers blind each other with their headlights. Last night coming home by car from the grocery store I followed an oversized pickup truck hauling a long trailer with a car on it as it turned in at Elm Street. I imagined having that behemoth try to pass me on a bike in there. Bad enough in daylight, let alone in the dark. And you know they would pass, or harass me for holding them back if I tried to cover the lane. Claiming space on the road becomes much harder in the dark.
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