Yesterday I went out for a quick road ride. My house is at the top of Bower Hill, so wherever I ride, I have to finish by climbing Bower Hill Road. I did a couple of quick loops and, at the end, on my way up Bower Hill, there is a fairly blind bend to the right. It’s a long hill and I wasn’t going fast, but Lance Armstrong on EPO, couldn’t have gone fast enough up that hill to satisfy the pick up truck that rolled up behind me.
Problem was, even though it’s a four-lane road, he was behind me and there was a car next to him in the left lane, so he had to slow down until he could pass. I guess I could have ridden on the sidewalk, but I hate when people ride bikes on the side walk, so I wasn’t.
Anyway, I could hear the truck’s abrupt slow down behind me. When the left lane was clear, he down shifted and went around me. I had a feeling from the way he revved his engine for the down shift that he wasn’t happy about the situation. As he came buy, I took a deep breath and held it, but I couldn’t hold it for long enough. Just as he went past me, he slowed down until his tailgate was even with me, then he floored it, covering me with a black cloud of diesel exhaust. It was delightful.
I could only hold my breath for so long, so when I finally had to take a breath, the diesel exhaust was burning my eyes and the stink filled my lungs.
When I caught my breath, I shouted “Nice truck, sorry about your penis”. But he couldn’t hear me. Some day my mouth is really going to get me into trouble.