Bike Rage II

My personal bike rage incident, continued from last time ...

The incident in question took place last fall. I was riding home in the dark, which is typical for that time of year, so I had my blinking headlight turned on. I was riding down a residential street a couple blocks south of the Rockridge BART when a pickup that was facing the same direction as me pulled out of a parking spot ahead of me and attempted to make a U-turn in the middle of the block. Of course the road was too narrow, so he was at a right angle to the street in the opposite lane as I approached. I slowed down, but he didn't seem to be moving, so I (foolishly) assumed he'd seen me and was waiting. But as I got closer, he suddenly put the truck in reverse and backed into my lane. I slammed on my brakes and stopped just in time as he came to a stop completely obstructing my way.

To understand my frame of mind at this moment, we need to step back to my morning commute just a few weeks before. A half-block from the scene of my incident with the pickup, some woman in a Saab ran a stop sign and came within inches of running directly into me. Then, when I gave her a piece of my mind, she had the gall to yell at me. Although her windows were rolled up, reading her lips wasn't too hard, especially with her accompanying hand gesture. That she had the audacity to curse me out after almost running into me just infuriated me more. So, on this chilly fall night, when this truck nearly ran into me, something in me snapped. I cut loose with a stream of obscenities, and I even coasted closer to his driver's-side window. I'm not sure what I was hoping to accomplish with this. He looked at me and started speaking, but his window was rolled up. With the incident involving the slag in the Saab fresh in my mind, I assumed the worst, so I started giving back as good as I assumed I was getting.

Me: You $%$&!@!, watch $^!^#%@! where $$%&#&@! going!
Him: (inaudible behind window) wom wom wom wom
Me: $%#%!$!@!!
Him: (slowly rolling down window) wom wom wom ...eally sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you alright?

Well ... didn't I feel like an asshole. Traffic was starting to back up behind us on either side, so I sheepishly muttered something about being ok and rode around the back of his truck. In retrospect, I wasn't particularly conspicuous in the dark (on a poorly lit street) with nothing but a little flashing LED to light my way, and I sympathize with the guy in the truck.

I'd like to think that since then, I've been chastened and had a cooler head during my commute. But that probably isn't true -- especially during my evening commute when my blood sugar is low. Nevertheless, I would hope I could stop short of physical violence if I had a run-in with a minivan driving soccer mom from Redwood City. I'm no fan of mobs, which is one of the reasons I've never participated in Critical Mass, and maybe that will be my saving grace.