Seems like whenever I put on my bike kit I might as well be painting a big target on my back. Take this morning: I was riding up to my team photo and, as usual, was running late, so I was cruising along East Mercer, maybe twenty twenty one when I pass some dude, give him a wave and move on; well three minutes later here he comes around me at probably twenty six twenty seven and then immediately pulls back. The guy had totally gassed himself. In days gone by I would have just slowed down and let him move on up the road, no need to cause a commotion. But those days are no more. The second that fella slowed down I threw down and buried that asshole.
I get passed all the time; it ain’t no big thing, but if you’re going to pass, do it and move down the road. This gassing oneself just to get around the guy in the team kit and then puttering out is nonsense, but it’s common nonsense.
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