THIS weekend I had the pleasure of heading out into the Derbyshire Dales for a leisurely drive and walk along the High Peak Trail.
Well, I say pleasure but, in fact, it turned out to be anything but.
And as much as I hate to bash anyone for enjoying their hobby, especially one as healthy as cycling, the day out was completely ruined by the attitude of some, both on the roads and on the trail.
Now, to be fair, I do have plenty of friends who are keen bikers and I've even been known to jump on the saddle myself for a ride round Carsington Water. So I've listened sympathetically to friends' tales of near-misses with speeding drivers whizzing past bikes, leaving just a hair's breadth between the two.
But, let's be honest, who hasn't felt slightly intimidated when driving along a narrow country lane and coming across a pack of Lycra-clad bikers not quite going as fast as the cars would like to but, nevertheless, doing a decent pace.
Certainly fast enough to make overtaking difficult and bunched up in such a way that drivers need a long, clear stretch of road to even be able to consider such a manoeuvre.
I encountered four such packs on my drive out. Often two and three abreast, and totally packed together so I couldn't even overtake a couple at a time. It was all or nothing.
Did they think they were taking part in the Tour de France? I mean, surely common sense would tell them that they were creating a hazard for drivers behind them?
When I did manage to get past them, I was rewarded with a rather unpleasant two-finger gesture from the leader but I'm still not sure why!
I can't help but feel cyclists think they are somehow morally superior to other road users. After all, they aren't guzzling the earth's precious resources like us selfish car owners. They seem to consider the country lanes to be theirs and that they have some kind of absolute right to ride without any consideration for other road user.
And talking of consideration for other people, my experience on the trail convinced me that the biking fraternity really doesn't give two hoots for anyone else.
Just five minutes into my walk, I saw a young child narrowly escape a potentially serious collision.
She must have been about seven or eight, and was running ahead of her family, squealing with delight as she played around, when something on the other side of the trail caught her eye. She ran straight across the path just at the time when a manic speed-freak came haring past on his mountain bike. It was so close that I actually gasped in horror.
Bear in mind these old railway-line trails have been designed for everyone to enjoy – cyclists, walkers, dog owners and horse-riders. So why do cyclists feel obliged to use them as time trial routes – and then have the gall to complain when anyone gets in their way?
It's not like you can always hear them approach – a bell seems an alien concept to most of them – and, if they do make a noise, it seems to be an angry expletive to move out of the way. Certainly not child friendly!
There have been a few times when I have been walking my dog round Carsington when I have encountered a similar problem. I keep him on a lead because I do try to be considerate to others around me. Not everyone loves dogs, especially ones with muddy paws who like to greet anyone they meet with a big sloppy kiss – and I can accept that.
So why can't the cyclists accept that they too need to be aware of others' pleasure and enjoyment. To be totally honest, it makes me laugh in a way – after all, the trail is hardly a difficult route, my little girl used to do it when she was just eight – yet there they are, dressed up in team-colour Lycra, pedaling away like an Olympic gold depended on it.
I'm not unsympathetic to cyclists. I know there are inconsiderate car drivers, I know there are groups of walkers who insist upon walking five-abreast. But I also know what I experienced this weekend didn't do anything to dispel cyclists' reputation as arrogant, selfish and inconsiderate road hogs.
