I went for a nice & hard bike ride yesterday. I hadn’t ridden in a while so it goes without saying that I quickly became winded and my legs started burning after the first fifteen minutes. I rode all the way down Escarpment, then all the way east on Convict Hill to MoPac and then all the way back the way I came. I ventured further south to where the new Escarpment Village is being constructed.
As I was making my way toward Escarpment Village, I was traveling against traffic. Once I crossed Salcon Cliff Drive the bike lane became “one way” with clearly visible and freshly painted large, white arrows pointing in the direction opposite in which I was traveling.
I pedaled upon an older man who was decked out in all of the latest “I wish I were Lance Armstrong” biker garb and a bicycle that probably cost more than my college education. His loose, fatty flesh flailed in the wind as he gasped up the hill. He saw me coming from the opposite direction and with a tomahawk arm gesture he began signaling to me that I was going the wrong direction. My iPod was blaring whatever song was on but I could make out his lips saying, “YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!!!” As we neared each other I could begin to hear him through my earphones, “THIS IS ONE WAY!!! YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!!!”, still waving the tomahawk arm. And he was really angry and mean about it as he kept yelling at me. There was no one else on the street. I was by no means in his way. It was just Loose Lovehandles Lance and yours truly in a joust. As we finally met and pedaled by one another, he came to the end of his “…WAY!!!” I pulled in as close to him as I possibly could, leaned over far enough to where my breath could have knocked him off of his LiveStrong 900 and yelled, “REALLY?!?!”
I should have fallen over and sued him for his sweet Spandex.
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