Riding your bike, now with 100% more screaming and swearing
(updated: Jul 12, 2013)
Do you enjoy riding your bike? I do. Do you like to ride in peace and mind your own business and not be harassed? Me too. But Monday had other plans for me and my family.
Last week I talked about when you ride you face the possibility of getting lectured. But I failed to mention the possibility of getting screamed and swore at. So let’s cover this, because it totally happened to me the other day. But first some background info is necessary...
So my folks retired years ago and live in the gated golf community of Porter’s Neck. Neither of them play golf. They’ve been there for more than 10 years now. When I moved back from CA I lived with them for a year until I got a place of my own. On Monday’s there is no golf, so you could walk, jog, or ride bikes on the golf cart path. I used to take my older son around all the time, but I hadn’t done it for over a year. These days I take my kids riding in the mountains, in DuPont. They love going down Ridgeline in particular (they hate climbing back up). But the NC mountains has been inundated with heavy rain. It is flooding, and the trails are a mess. So I decided to take my kids to ride the golf cart path on Monday after talking about it with my folks.
We started around 7pm. Pretty much nobody was outside. They were all inside watching tv, as I could see a tv on in every house as I passed by on my bike. Tv’s are easy to see now that they are bigger than 747s and can be mounted just about anywhere these days. So we were almost done, having ridden close to five miles, when a woman ran from her house onto her porch and started repeatedly yelling you can’t ride bikes on the golf course and to get off the golf course. I first thought to myself, yes I can, here I am doing it, and I’m allowed to. I’m one who doesn’t like being yelled at. So I just shouted back, “Go back to your tv.” My kids were riding behind me.
But when we got to the end where my vehicle was parked, there was a guy coming out of a white Mercedes who parked in front of the lot and blocked me in. As soon as I saw that I knew he was going to be trouble and I don’t deal with people like that. But I let him speak first just in the slim chance he would be respectful. He wasn’t. The first words out of his mouth were, “Can’t you read the fucking sign?” I said I’ve lived here for nine years and leave me alone. He then starts swearing up and down, calling me a “fucking asshole” right in front of my kids. This old fart was a total raving lunatic. So I stood there and said, “What are you going to do about it, huh?”, because I knew this fusspot wasn’t going to do anything. But he screamed and yelled like I just ran over his cat. I found out later that he had yelled at my kids too after I was already passed his house with his annoying, hollering wife. So then he got in his car and sped down the road to intercept me.
Who messes with me? I'm 6’-2”, about 200lbs, have the endurance of a triathlete (but not the bike-handling skills) and strength of an ox (not the brains I hope, but apparently I don't read). I guess it has to be the slimming, tight-fitting Fred-wear. Maybe I need to dispense with the Fred-wear and start sporting tattoo arms and gold teeth:
"Gator needs his Gat, punk-ass bitch!" (from the movie The Other Guys)
Now my kids told me they never want to go back there. I told my son in life you have to stand up for yourself and never let people push you around. This guy had no authority to tell me what to do, and I do not take crap from anyone. He could have called the guard station and they could have informed me that the board changed the rules recently to not allow bikes on the golf cart path. I mean, I had no idea. My folks thought that you could still ride there on Mondays. I had to call around to find out what the deal was.
So just make sure, before you ride your bike on a path, sand, road, or trail, you first find out who’s in charge and ask them if it’s ok to ride there. At Porter’s Neck, they’ve got five miles of smooth sidewalk, and one giant fucktard of an obstacle.
Beware Porter’s Neck, for there lurketh the golf path troll…
Maybe I need a Trunk Monkey for my bike. I could keep him in my pack.
Looking like a total Fred doesn't help. In fact, it probably induces rage in non-cyclists. No, apparently just riding a bike induces rage in non-cyclists.
Doing my best to look like a total Fred:
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