Sorry seems to be the hardest word

Away from my regular day job, I also work as a musician. I’ll never be famous or any of that stuff, but it’s something I’ve done with over 30 years now, so it actually becomes part of your life.

One of the downsides to this life, is late nights and when you reach mid-fifties, like I have, feeling tired at the end of a night. I often think about the younger me, where a gig was followed by a trip to the local night club, going to watch professional bands and copying them the next night myself.

Another annoying part is coming home and the buzzing in your ears as you try to sleep.

“later in the evening as you lie awake in bed, with the echoes of the amplifiers ringin’  in your head” – Bob Seger, Turn the Page, (1973)

This weekend was no exception, arriving home at close to 2am, packing equipment away, waiting for the dog to come back after chasing a cat, meant I was still looking at the clock at 3am.

I had signed up for a 200km sportif on Sunday, but reality dictated that I may need a little more than 3 hours sleep to complete such event. Reality also told me to “wake up, it’s not possible, stay in bed and do something else”.

So, instead of struggling out at 6am, a more acceptable Sunday began at 11am and as the Indian Summer arrived in Ireland, I decided that while I’ve missed the sportif, it would be a shame to waste the day, so I’d take a trip to the coast, Tramore in Co Waterford. It’s about 100km and involves the Waterford Greenway, one of the newest and most successful pieces of infrastructure in Ireland.

Just after midday, I set out at a nice leisurely pace, with my first port of call, the village where I was brought up. The village looks wonderful, with particular thanks due to the local Tidy Towns people, who work tirelessly for their community.

A call to see my mother for half an hour and I was back on my bike, heading for my favourite town in the world, Dungarvan.

The rest of my family are coming down in the car, so we should arrive around the same time, or “in time for the chips” as we say. One thing you have to get in Tramore, is chips.

On my way towards Dungarvan, I met the earlier mentioned Sportif riders, as they headed towards their final climb of the day, before the finish in Clonmel. Well done to them all, 200km is some achievement on a bike.

A tail wind kept me going at a nice steady pace and it wasn’t long before I was descending Colligan, towards Dungarvan town. Arriving on the Waterford – Cork road, I turned left at “the Master McGrath” monument and began the short distance to town.

There’s a bike lane running alongside the road, but I don’t use it. It’s covered in grit, leaves, stones and my bike is a Ridley Noah SL, which isn’t cheap. I have Knight hand built wheels underneath, so I don’t want scratches or stone chips. The only chips I’m interested in today come in a bag with salt and vinegar.

I’m travelling along at about 35km/h, on the hard shoulder, so there’s no need to worry, or so I think.

As I approach a busy junction, it happens. It only takes one person to ruin a day, maybe I was spoiled, it was all going too well. A car arrives beside me and cuts straight in front of me to turn at the junction. I jam on my brakes, scrubbing off my speed as quick as I can.

Okay, a small admission to make here, but the words “hey, for f*ck sake, what are you up to” were shouted,

I got the usual, expletives in return and despite my calls to come back and explain themselves, my unwanted friends carried on.

Now this isn’t unusual and is one of the downsides of riding a bike in Ireland. Respect, courtesy, manners, attributes that I was brought up with, are well gone I’m afraid and nowhere is this more evident than on our roads. We live in a time of miraculous engineering, where vehicles are safer than ever, our road network, while not perfect, is a long way from the roads I learned to drive on back in the 1980’s. The weakest link is the person driving I’m afraid.

It was this lack of respect and the expletives that just got me yesterday and rather than doing Facebook posts and that nonsense, I was taking it a step further. I’m sick of this, I’m taking no more of it, so the decision was made …. I’m going to the Gardaí, I’m going to make a complaint and report these people. I had their registration number, hard to miss it really, it was about 4 feet from my face at one stage.

Arriving at the Garda station, I had a few moments to think “is this necessary?”, “come on you’re making a mountain out of a molehill”, “The Gardaí have enough to be doing”, but I also thought of my family en-route behind me and I thought of the same Gardaí having to contact them if I’m seriously injured or worse, on the road.

So, with that in mind, I entered the Garda station. No going back no, I was going to make a report and I have to admit, it didn’t feel nice.

I met a young Garda and I explained my case to him. I explained that I didn’t wish to get anybody into trouble, as I was brought up better than that, but as a cyclist, I’m sick and tired of this conduct from people, who don’t give one damn about me and my safety.

I’m also a motorist, who pays for the very roads I was nearly hurt on, I feel I have a right to use those roads and most importantly, I demand to be treated with respect and if I hold you up for a moment, well that’s just tough.

I told the Garda that I had called the individuals in the car to come back, where I would have invited them accompany me to the station and state their own case, but they kept going.

I told him that I didn’t use the bike lane because of its condition and that I was well in off the road, was not holding anybody up and was conducting myself.

He took my complaint on board, took the registration number and of course, my own details as well.

He told me that the standard procedure is that the Gardaí will run the registration number, find out who the people are and a member will call to their home. They will get an opportunity to explain themselves, but they will get a caution and a warning that their future driving needs to improve.

As I headed off and reached the sanctity of the nearby Greenway, I thought about what I had just done. I thought of the people in that car, who only had to respect my rights on the road, drive with due care and consideration and if they make a mistake, as many of us do at some stage, put your hand up and simply say “sorry. I made a mistake”.

The individuals can now expect a call from the Gardaí, will get a caution and no doubt, will feel very aggrieved. I can also expect their hostility towards cyclists to increase, but that’s part of it.

I really hope that the next time they see a cyclist on the road, they might use a small bit of common sense and realise, it’s another human being, a husband, a wife, son or daughter.

I completed my 100km journey to Tramore, but the good was gone out of it. I met the family, we got chips and pizza and guess what, they were horrible, the worst ever.

 

 

Why do some people hate cyclists?? Read on.

A few weeks ago one of the lads at work said to me “Hey, they’re talking about you on Tipp FM”, our local radio station. Now, I love radio and I’ve been given many opportunities to speak about subjects. The station has been very good to me in the past and I’m one of those people that appreciate stuff like that.

Anyway, the programme producer contacted me a little later, asking if I was free the following morning to speak about an issue.

However, there’s an added problem, as the boss at work pays my wages and he expects me to do a bit of work for him and leave my radio stuff for my own time. I had to decline the station, but I sent them an email, which they referred to in my absence the following day.

The issue to be discussed? Cyclists and how some of them are a menace on our roads, footpaths, operating with impunity, with little or no regards for other road users.

I have spoken on many occasions, pleading for acceptance, share the road, treat each other with respect and I have been hugely critical of other road users. However, sometimes you begin to ask yourself if it’s worth it.

“I tried” I told the radio producer, “but you know what, I don’t care anymore. Let people do as they wish, I can’t change the world”.

Fast forward to last night, stretched out watching the Tour of Utah on telly, when my phone blinked. It was a good friend calling, so I answered.

“Are you on WhatsApp?” my friend asked, “I have a video to send you and I’d like your opinion”

“Yep, send it on, is it juicy?”

“God be with the days” he laughed and we had a good chat for a while.

My friend runs a business, pays rates, taxes, creates employment, pays wages, pays more taxes, you get my meaning.

Anyway, standing on the footpath outside his premises this week, he was confronted by a cyclist travelling at speed, heading the wrong way on a one way street, on the footpath. My friend stopped the cyclist, explaining how dangerous it is, telling him how he is causing a potential threat to pedestrians and most importantly for him, people leaving his business.

My friend is an easy going person and not the type to lose his temper and ironically enough, he has a strong interest in cycling and has pushed many a pedal in his day. However, I don’t think he expected to be treated with in the way he was and took a video as proof.

The belligerence of the guy on the bicycle left me stunned, as I watched the video of the confrontation.

Contempt, couldn’t care less and downright ignorance, are adjectives that also come to mind to describe his attitude.

Both my friend and I agreed that a “few slaps of a hurley wouldn’t go astray on him”. Strangely enough, there was a time in Ireland where such actions were actively encouraged.

“Take that to the Gardaí” I advised.

“I did” was the answer.

I attempted to reassure my friend that this guy isn’t a proper cyclist. In my opinion, he’s just an arsehole, who has the ability to cycle a bike.

Is he representative of our sport? Of course not. He’s just a lout and an ignoramus who could do with an introduction to the affore mentioned hurley.

So far this year, I have cycled almost 6,000km, with a target of 10,000km by the end of the year. Only recently, during our holidays I managed almost 1000km, climbing the equivalent of Mount Everest in the process.

In that length of time, I would say my altercations with other road users have been minimal. If I had to count them, I would easily manage it on one hand. You see, I’m a motorist as well, I own a car and at one stage in my life, I actually drove for a living. Contrary to popular belief, I pay for my use of the roads, as all my other cycling friends do and also contrary to popular belief, I have insurance and a licence to ride my bike.

“What??? A licence to ride a bike??? Are you joking??”

“Nope, I have full membership of Cycling Ireland”

I also possess that unique of qualities, I was brought up by my parents to have respect and to have a good name.

My dad always told us as we grew up “You might have a hole in the arse of your trousers, but if your name is good, you can walk any street or in any door, with your head held high”

Those are qualities we try to instill into our own child.

So far this year, millions has been raised by cycling and cycling clubs for good causes across the country.

On Sunday week next, I will be among the riders taking on another 200km, raising funds for cancer care. Already this year, I raised over €500 for Motor Neurone.

The actions of the guy my friend confronted do absolutely nothing for cycling, for the participants or for the sport in general. If anything, it sets the sport back and gives the critics more ammunition and more reasons to complain.

As a further result, people like me, who do their very best to participate in a sport are tarred with the same brush.

It’s wrong and unacceptable.

I sent the video to one of our local councillors, who has done huge work in providing proper cycling infrastructure in the town and I could sense his disappointment.

I also sent it to Tipp FM, with an explanation “that’s another reason why I didn’t speak on the airwaves recently”. You cannot defend the indefensible.

I would love to publish the video for everybody in the town to see, but under data protection, the guy in question has many more rights than I have, so I could end up on the wrong end of the law.

In the meantime, that guy will tear around the footpaths of our town today. He will display the same arrogance, ignorance and sheer contempt for people. Eventually, somebody will get seriously hurt and the “effing cyclist” brigade will have a field day.

He’s not the only one, its endemic across the nation, putting a strain on scarce Garda resources and creating more animosity.

And they wonder why so many people hate cyclists.