Loonies in Lycra?

One of the great joys of my week is to read the letters page of the local free newspaper. It gives me a sense of what is troubling the underprivileged citizens of Perth's Western Suburbs (average house price $1000000 and rising). Hot topic this week is people publicly masturbating and engaging in gay sex on Swanbourne nudist beach, which for those unfamiliar with Perth is the city's premier gay beach.

Since I have no desire to spend time on Swanbourne beach, another topic has been closer to my heart. Local residents (most of whom drive overpriced, petrol-guzzling 4WDs to carry their little darlings the 1km to their overpriced private school) have been whingeing about cyclists.

As a cyclist, I would be the first to admit that some of my fellow cyclists are complete knob jockeys. I have almost come to blows with some of them on occasions for doing things like running red lights. But fairs fair- what the minority of loonies in lycra do is comparable with what most average drivers do towards cyclists and pedestrians on a daily basis in this car-obsessed city.

As a regular commuter by bike here's what I have to deal with on an almost daily basis.
1). Being shunted into the gutter by drivers too impatient to give me the space I need. .
2). Having drivers at junctions or roundabouts pulling out in front of me, centimetres from my nose despite my having right of way. And I know they have seen me from the shifty look on their faces when they do it.
3). Being cut off at junction by drivers too impatient to wait that few seconds for me to pass.

Many of the writers to the local paper complain about cyclists not using cycle paths. I do and here's what I have to contend with.

1) Punctured tires on an almost weekly basis because kids and/or drunken idiots drop bottles on the middle of the cycle path and the council doesn't clean up for weeks on end. Cyclists don't count as usual.
2) Workmen fencing off whole sections of the path without putting up signs. Potholes left afterwards for months.
3). Struggling to get past dopey pedestrians, seven generations of their extended family and assorted pets who seem to have difficulty grasping the concept of 'keep left' and who get outraged if I have the audacity to ring my bell.
4) Aforementioned pedestrians shouting verbal abuse at me if I pass them at anything less than 3km an hour despite the fact that they are on the wrong side of the path and I have rung my bell twenty seven times to warn them.
5). Braindead surfers who feel entitled to hang out on the cycle pathwith their brain dead mates all carrying boards which take up any remaining space.
6). Mothers with kids who think that the cycle track is a great place for kids to play or to have their nappies changed.


I almost tempted to write a letter to the local paper except for the fact that I don't want to become one of those idiots who writes letters to the local paper.