Last night; on the bit of hard surfaced bridleway that leads to the cyclepath that helps me escape the pile of cr@p that is Haywards Heath, suddenly there is a car up my harris, revving its engine, sounding its horn. I stopped, got off, and stood in front of her, next to the large public bridleway sign. She gave me the RP versions of
Geroffmoiland - I pointed out it is a public bridleway
We have to pay to maintain this road - it isn't a road it's a public bridleway
Bridleways are only for horses - I'm well aware of my rights on a public bridleway
I have child in the car - then why are you driving so aggressively?
You were riding deliberately slowly - not until you started revving your engine aggressively
I'm going to report you to the police - what for, not riding fast enough for your liking?
Grandma with Jocasta in the back running late to take the child back to mummy, I bet.
This morning P15 MRC, a silver beemer 320, whatafeckincliché, wanted a follicle sample of the hair on my right knee this morning whilst tailgating a transit in some sort of bizarre BOGOF overtake in the face of an oncoming HGV. Now this driver has form around me and other cyclists in these parts. The plate sticks in your mind when the car is driven by such an obvious winkledick. Operation Crackdown duly advised.