I Hate Bicyclists

One time a few years back, Grace was living in Seattle and Ro and I decided to pay her a visit. While we were out there, Grace came up with this brilliant idea to visit Bainbridge Island via car ferry. Ro had rented a car and we were going to drive it up onto the car ferry, ship it and ourselves over to Bainbridge, take a leisurely drive, visit a few shops and cafes and then travel back to Seattle for a fancy dinner. It sounds lovely, right? Well, it turned into a royal disaster because of effing bikers.

First of all, the car ferry trip was precarious. We had the luck of the draw and started a new line of cars which meant that our car was the first car parked on the downward part of an incline into the ocean with only an emergency brake and a wooden block under the tires to keep it from rolling right out to sea. At first I didn't know that we could get out of the car and go up to the main deck, so I thought we were going to have to sit in the car staring at death for the half hour ride. Luckily our car made it safely and we drove off the fairy (typo that I'm keeping!) into the beauty that is Bainbridge Island.

Unluckily, there was a huge bike race around the island and there were hundreds of bikers polluting the streets. This meant our leisurely drive turned into a white knuckle scream session. Seriously, the bikers would get into packs of about 40-50 and would surround a car, so that the car could only go as fast as the bikers (which, fyi, isn't as fast as they think it is) and then once there would be a break in the pack and you would think you could get your car around them, they would dart in front of you, causing you to almost hit them and make the rest of the bike pack start yelling at you. It was terrifying.

We finally found this road that had 5 million dollar homes on it and NO BIKERS! It was heaven. And btw, the road was called Toe Jam Rd. Seriously.

Anyways, this weekend, as I was driving the streets of the STP, I noticed many bicyclers and my hatred of them was brought back ten fold. What is it about these assholes that makes them think they rule the road? Is it the brightly colored spandex? My feeling is...I'm in a car, you're on a bike. I win. Get the eff out of my way. When will they learn?