Children can be so unkind

I had to drive into town this morning, so instead of riding in along the Derwent, I rode for an hour up the grandly-titled Inter City Cycle Path. Along the way it passes New Town High School and you have to be wary of kids darting across the track without looking. This morning was no exception: a big group walked out in front of me, so I slowed and waited for them to cross.

One lad turned, and startled because he hadn't realised I was closing in on them looked at me and exclaimed: "Fuck me dead - it's Santa Claus in tights".

A very unfair description if ever there was one, but all the same I think I'm going to have to lose the beard.

4,133km so far this year.

Tips for idiots.

I rolled out this morning for a lazy 70km ride, hoping to make up on some of the distance I've missed out during the week due to weather and laziness. Also, there's a few folk I know on about the same mileage for the year to date and I thought it sensible to put a little bit of distance between us - purely to help keep them motivated of course.

I had a terrific ride down through Huonville and along the river to Franklin before turning around and heading back up the Huon Highway to Kev's place for a short visit before heading home. The bike felt good, I felt good, the rain held off and I was making good time without pushing it too hard. Even the dreaded STI gears were working fine. I was reflecting on this blissful state when some fool leaned out the window of a passing car and screamed something at me. It sounded a bit like this:

"Fugamuganugamugaheyooha!"

Although I admit I may be misquoting the bloke. I've had my fair share of random idiots yell stuff at me out car windows before. It's always alarming and I can never understand what it is they're saying. What if it's the secret to a long and fruitful life? I've never done this sort of thing, but there's two golden rules I'd set down for people engaging in this sort of behaviour:

1. Make sure you're driving a fairly nondescript car.
2. Make sure the driver isn't going to stop for petrol in the next town.

This guy messed up on both counts. I spotted the white early model ute with one large and one small trail bike in the back pulled up at the BP in Huonville. Sweet. I rolled up to the passenger side and in my best non-confrontational voice asked to the late-teen passenger:

"What was it you yelled at me back there? You were going quite fast and I had a bit of trouble hearing you."

He mumbled something, his eyes downcast.

"Can you please not do that? I'm tired of people yelling and throwing things at me from moving cars. It's very immature."

He protested he didn't throw anything.

And so we went our separate ways. As I rolled out of the service station another motorist who'd watched the exchange gave me a big grin. As for our young idiot? I honestly don't know if he's now more or less likely to do it again.

The irony is that almost without exception the drivers of Tasmania are the most courteous I've ever encountered. Except the truck drivers of course - but I understand that the road is their workplace and that their need to get to where they're going quickly is far more important than my right to be alive.

3,290km so far this year.

But did he get some miles in?

Like most right-minded people I regard exercise bikes - along with treadmills - as signs of latent deviency. As usual, it turns out that I'm right. Full points to the bloke for quick thinking though:

JOHANNESBURG (Reuters) - A gang stripped a South African man before supergluing him to an exercise bicycle while they ransacked his house, according to a report Thursday.

SAPA news agency said the attackers, dressed in suits, hijacked a man in his 50s and forced him at gunpoint to take them to his home in Johannesburg.

"The victim was then forced to strip, after which he was superglued to the seat of an exercise bicycle, his hands were superglued, as were his feet and then his mouth was superglued shut," SAPA quoted Mark Stokoe, a spokesman for emergency services Netcare 911, as saying.

The man was rescued about three hours later when his partner arrived home, SAPA said.

Now I'm no detective, but it sounds to me like his girlfriend got home early and he had to reach for the old "Bad Men Broke In, Made Me Do This At Gunpoint, Then Ran Away Leaving No Trace Except A Very Rude Movie In The DVD Player" excuse. We've all used that one before. I'll bet they made him get drunk too. As an excuse it's versatile and so very plausible, but you can only use it the once.

2,725km so far this year.

They should put warning labels on them

Apparently cycling is the new golf. There seems to be a recent plague of garishly dressed wankers abusing grossly overpriced equipment, so it might just be true.

I'm generally loathe to make light of the misfortune of others, but check this bloke out. Racing on a busy public road, he went straight up the back of a parked car. Well, they can be hard to spot. And check out the damage to the bike: those pretty carbon forks just snapped like twigs.


Specialized S-Works plastic wonder bike: $8,000.
Latest ultra-lightweight helmet: $350.
Lycra boy racer outfit: $400.

Riding into a parked car because you're not looking where you're going: Priceless.

Random pic of heavy steel bike from last year's Mallee Routes 200km.