There was the time that one of them banjaxed my wing mirror when I was sitting in my parked car, listening to the radio. On another occasion, one of them suddenly shot across the road in front of me to make a last-minute, right-hand turn, resulting in me slamming on the brakes so that the car behind almost hit me. By the time that driver had taken his hand off the horn – blaming me, of course – the real offender was long gone.
And then there were all those nightmare Sundays when, while living in rural Wicklow for a few years, the road from Glenealy to Rathdrum would be overrun with them at weekends, fluorescently lycra-ed from top to toe, and strung out across the road like a performance troupe that had just fled from the stage of ‘Riverdance’.
Suffice to say that, over the years, when it came to cyclists on our roads, I was never a fan. Why not? Well, apart from the ridiculous get-ups of the weekend brigade, so many cyclists seemed to believe that they weren’t answerable to the rules of the road. So there they’d be – breaking red lights with impunity, cycling on pavements and, of course, adhering to that country-roads phenomenon of cycling three or four abreast, simply because it suited them. And with no regard whatsoever for the accumulating queue of cars behind them, unable to overtake, and therefore pushing drivers to the point where, on occasion, some would become so frustrated that they would take a chance, overtaking even when they knew that it wasn’t entirely safe.
Please log in or register with Independent.ie for free access to this article.
Log In
New to Independent.ie? Create an account
So no, I was never a cheerleader for the cycling community.
And then, two years ago, I bought a bike. One of those trendy, girly ones – all duck-egg blue paint (matt, of course) complete with wicker basket on the front. It would be great, I thought. I’d cycle into my local town centre, park my bike, do a bit of shopping and then carry it home in my basket. Or I’d pedal to the Dart station and then back home again at night after I’d returned from the city. I’d cycle to the swimming pool, the library, the local theatre.
I hadn’t cycled, though, in more than 30 years. But after my initial foray – 7.30 on a Sunday morning, first around a nearby Lidl car park to get my confidence and then out on to the clear, early-morning roads and down to the beach – I thought that all was right with the world and that this cycling lark was going to be terrific. Even life-changing.
It wasn’t, however. Cycling was terrifying. Potholes, delivery lorries thundering past, the edges of the road often uneven and unsafe, and, yes, car drivers getting far too close for comfort. And all this in the vicinity of a small town. What on earth, it made me think, must it be like for people cycling in our cities?
So I now happily concede that my past attitude to cyclists was ill-informed and that I didn’t really have a clue about how vulnerable you can feel perched on a bicycle on our car-infested roads. Which is why this week’s introduction of the new protections – where overtaking drivers encroaching on cyclists’ space will be severely penalised – is such a welcome move.
Me? After too many scares I threw in the towel and sold my bike this summer. I salute, however, all those who are determined – whether for eco or fitness motives – to stick to the saddle.
And all drivers, myself included, must now acknowledge their vulnerability and learn to give them a very wide berth at all times. For all the right reasons.
Source: Read Full Article
Home » Analysis & Comment » Roslyn Dee: 'One bike trip and I'm saddled with the knowledge of how dangerous it is'
Roslyn Dee: 'One bike trip and I'm saddled with the knowledge of how dangerous it is'
There was the time that one of them banjaxed my wing mirror when I was sitting in my parked car, listening to the radio. On another occasion, one of them suddenly shot across the road in front of me to make a last-minute, right-hand turn, resulting in me slamming on the brakes so that the car behind almost hit me. By the time that driver had taken his hand off the horn – blaming me, of course – the real offender was long gone.
And then there were all those nightmare Sundays when, while living in rural Wicklow for a few years, the road from Glenealy to Rathdrum would be overrun with them at weekends, fluorescently lycra-ed from top to toe, and strung out across the road like a performance troupe that had just fled from the stage of ‘Riverdance’.
Suffice to say that, over the years, when it came to cyclists on our roads, I was never a fan. Why not? Well, apart from the ridiculous get-ups of the weekend brigade, so many cyclists seemed to believe that they weren’t answerable to the rules of the road. So there they’d be – breaking red lights with impunity, cycling on pavements and, of course, adhering to that country-roads phenomenon of cycling three or four abreast, simply because it suited them. And with no regard whatsoever for the accumulating queue of cars behind them, unable to overtake, and therefore pushing drivers to the point where, on occasion, some would become so frustrated that they would take a chance, overtaking even when they knew that it wasn’t entirely safe.
Please log in or register with Independent.ie for free access to this article.
Log In
New to Independent.ie? Create an account
So no, I was never a cheerleader for the cycling community.
And then, two years ago, I bought a bike. One of those trendy, girly ones – all duck-egg blue paint (matt, of course) complete with wicker basket on the front. It would be great, I thought. I’d cycle into my local town centre, park my bike, do a bit of shopping and then carry it home in my basket. Or I’d pedal to the Dart station and then back home again at night after I’d returned from the city. I’d cycle to the swimming pool, the library, the local theatre.
I hadn’t cycled, though, in more than 30 years. But after my initial foray – 7.30 on a Sunday morning, first around a nearby Lidl car park to get my confidence and then out on to the clear, early-morning roads and down to the beach – I thought that all was right with the world and that this cycling lark was going to be terrific. Even life-changing.
It wasn’t, however. Cycling was terrifying. Potholes, delivery lorries thundering past, the edges of the road often uneven and unsafe, and, yes, car drivers getting far too close for comfort. And all this in the vicinity of a small town. What on earth, it made me think, must it be like for people cycling in our cities?
So I now happily concede that my past attitude to cyclists was ill-informed and that I didn’t really have a clue about how vulnerable you can feel perched on a bicycle on our car-infested roads. Which is why this week’s introduction of the new protections – where overtaking drivers encroaching on cyclists’ space will be severely penalised – is such a welcome move.
Me? After too many scares I threw in the towel and sold my bike this summer. I salute, however, all those who are determined – whether for eco or fitness motives – to stick to the saddle.
And all drivers, myself included, must now acknowledge their vulnerability and learn to give them a very wide berth at all times. For all the right reasons.
Source: Read Full Article