Biking Can Sometimes Suck (Day 12)

I left my vile, sleazy motel room after spending the entire night trying not to physically touch the room in any way. I carried my bike, trailer and backpack down the flight of stairs to the ground level and dropped off my room key which was encased in a shell of grime and grit over the last three decades. From there, it was back on the road, heading west, out of the city of Youngstown (which is named after John Young, an early settler who established the community's first gristmill... and got a city named after him.)

Even though cycling across this great land can have its high moments, it is often blotted with numerous painful and annoying events. Aside from lousy shoulders, breakneck hills, torrential rains and oppressive heat, you have to deal with your occasional asshole. Since leaving New York, I've had several obscenities and sarcastic utterings shouted from passing cars and gawking residents seated in their faded lawn chairs under the safety of their wooden porches. And today. I inspired someone else to make the effort to insult and/or upset me.

It was a late Monday morning in the suburb town of Girard, just outside of Youngstown, and the weather was cool. Traffic was mild on this residential street, when two young men in a red, dented Honda turned onto the shady lane (a cartoon of their local college mascot frothing at the mouth plastered along their rear window). They were probably returning from an early morning bravado contest or a ritualistic, homoerotic circle jerk, and they needed to let out some pent-up rage. That's when they saw a man on a bicycle just a few blocks ahead of them.

This lone cyclist was pedaling hard, had a large trailer in tow and was obviously on some long journey... and without a doubt needed to be taught a lesson for having the audacity to exist in their field of vision. The driver downshifted his beat-up car, bringing it to a low hum as to not alert the cyclist of their stealthy approach. The passenger quickly rolled down his window and got into position... arching his back, stretching his neck and jutting his testicles. They puttered down the street, quietly swinging along the left side of the cyclist. Their time was about to come. They were about to declare their manhood and establish themselves as the dominate males on the block. They were directly to the left of the cyclist. He still didn't even know they were there. What an idiot this guy must be. He deserves whatever wrath they can unfold onto him.

The time was NOW! That's when they pounced!

"Blaaaaahhharr!" the robust passenger screamed out his window, unable to suppress his gleeful smile! Then he and his driver watched intently to their right to see if this sudden turbulent outburst would cause the cyclist to swerve or --if the gods were on their side-- lose balance and careen into a tree or signpost. But alas, all they seemed to cause was a brief shutter and a stern look from their unwitting victim.

Even though they were unable to cause any serious physical or emotional harm, the two young men were still able to relish in delight for causing a random biker 2 seconds of startlement. They couldn't contain themselves. They laughed and cheered as they sped away from an obviously angered man. Ha, ha, ha! This is one for the books! Their loud scream caused a man on a bike to shimmy for a fraction of time! And now they could safely escape down the road and relive this wonderful moment for years to come.

Then... a red light! A traffic signal that halted their escape. As the car slid to a stop, the two men shared a look. Not one of worry, just... concern. The driver checked his rear view mirror. Their former victim was still a lengthy four blocks away. The young, baseball-capped passenger assured his partner-in-crime that the cyclist was undoubtedly still shaken-up by their eloquent and sophisticated blitz and would in no way have the courage or strength to approach their 1997 Honda fortress. They were safe... or so they thought. The driver stared into his mirror, not believing what he saw. The man was actually cycling faster and seemed to be heading right for them. Was this possible? Did this guy actually want to retaliate? How could he possibly retort "Blaaaaahhharr!?!"

However, instead of waiting to see what pitiful response this pathetic cyclist had in store for them, the driver made a commanding decision and made a right on red and drove away... their aggregate four gonads reduced to the size of a flea.