Skip to main content

Road Rage


I am sick and tired of being bullied by truck drivers, jeepney drivers, taxi drivers, SUV drivers, fancy car drivers, school van drivers, bus drivers, and motorcyclists when I'm on my mountain bike! It takes me about 30 minutes of cycling through fumes and concrete streets to get to a fairly rough road, or a good trail where I know I'll be free from harassment on wheels. In those 30 minutes on the city streets, these are the things that usually happen:

I choke in black clouds of diesel fumes, or white clouds of carbon monoxide emitted by vehicles that shift into low gear just to overtake me.

I get deafened and startled out of my own skin by a bus blowing its horn behind me.

I get cat calls and whistles and lewd remarks, and no, I don't find the attention flattering. If a biker boy tells me I ride well, that's flattering.

I get forced into the gutter or unto the sidewalk by a driver that brings his vehicle alongside me, slows down, and turns ever so slightly into my non-existent bike lane. Just the other day, I could feel and hear a truck bearing down on me so I moved up onto the sidewalk and as soon as I did that the truck's rear tire swiped the edge of the sidewalk. I gladly gave the truck the finger as it disappeared around the bend, but I really wished I could've given it some serious damage.

If I were Miss Universe and believed in world peace, then I'd wish for well-mannered drivers and bike lanes all over the city.

But I'm not Miss Universe and I don't believe world peace is attainable and I hate beauty pageants. So here is an armory of secret weapons I wish I had in my war against bullies behind wheels: (But yes, bike lanes would be nice. And drivers who actually respect bikers and bike lanes would be lovely.)

I wish I had retractable blades in my shoes and handlebar-grips so as to scratch their shiny paint jobs if they come too close for comfort.

I wish I had dart guns attached to my hubs, so as to shoot nails into the tires of cowards that call out to me from a safe distance.

I wish I could instantly convert my bike frame into a bazooka and shoot potatoes into the exhaust pipes of smoke belchers.

I wish I had a sound bubble around me that could deflect loud horns and multiply the force of the sound and send it back to the source in higher decibels.

I wish I could give flying dagger looks, literally.

Comments

The Nashman said…
i once foolish attempted cycling from sta rosa to tagaytay. i gave up a quarter of the way. those crazy buses i could maybe avoid without crashing but their disgusting belch permeated the air and i couldn't breathe....

Popular posts from this blog

Lola of Maipon

It's all too easy to fall asleep under the blanket of everyday life and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. But once in a while, along comes a sparkling vision that jolts me out of my daily sleep and reminds me of the existence of convictions and worlds so different from my own. "Our beloved LOLA of Guinubatan, Maipon, Albay is the last true messenger of God. So, let us follow her holy teachings so that we will gain TRUE SALVATION without sufferings and without death." In another story I, the intrepid heroine, the adventurer seduced by mysteries, the pilgrim in search of truth, would follow them back to Guinubatan from Session Road, thirsting to see and hear their Lola for myself. However, it's all too easy -- much safer! -- to fall back asleep under the blanket of everyday life, and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. Then along comes 9 a.m., and really, it's time to down the dregs of coffee at the bott

Cordillera Folktales and Story-telling

It was cold and wet outside on the day of the launching of The Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and other Cordillera Folktales . But inside Mt. Cloud Bookshop we were warmed by stories read and performed by the Aanak di Kabiligan community theater group. Storytelling on a stormy afternoon. Paco Paco. A Benguet story from the book, published by the Cordillera Green Network. Aanak di Kabiligan means children of the mountains. The theater group was born out of the Cordillera Green Network's eleven years of conducting workshops in which children transform their grandparents' stories into theater productions. Here they perform the title story of the Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and Other Cordillera Folktales.

Birds of Baguio and Benguet

The Little Boss and I went to see the Birds of Baguio and Benguet Photo Exhibit at the Maryknoll Ecological Sanctuary . I carried her so she could see them up close and she pointed to each and every photo demanding, "What's that? What about that? What about this one?" I dutifully read out the name of every single bird featured in the exhibit: Scale-feathered Malkoha, Luzon Sunbird, Citrine Canary Flycatcher, and so on.We discussed the colors of their feathers and the shapes of their beaks. Some of the birds were already familiar to her. The crow and the shrike are frequent visitors in our garden. Shrike in the hands of the Artist-in-Residence, with the Little Boss' first hesitant touch. Taken October 2013. Once a young shrike in flight crashed into our picture window and lay on the ground, stunned. The Little Boss and the Artist-in-Residence held it lovingly in their hands and as soon as it pushed against their palms they gently released it. That was The Littl