Confession #2

Like every other roadie out there, I have my pet peeves about cars that don’t signal before they turn, other roadies who refuse to acknowledge you when you wave, etc.  But by far, the most annoying thing to encounter is the sneak drafter.  You know their type:  they sneak into your draft and don’t have the courtesy to either inform you of their presence or take a turn at the front so you can take a break.  Essentially, they are inconsiderate freeloaders with no concept of proper etiquette.

My tactic when I realize I’ve picked up one of these road lice is to either maintain cadence and gear ratio on a short hill instead of clicking to an easier gear–usually this is guaranteed to spit them off the back as they aren’t expecting me to keep charging. The second is to just slow down until they catch a clue and pass me.

On a recent sunny afternoon, I was just riding along when I noticed my shadow on the pavement had doubled:  I had acquired a wheel sucker. And not just any wheel sucker, but an aero bar wheel sucker.  I have nothing against folks who race either TT or Triathalons, but last time I checked, 3:30 in the afternoon on a Thursday in September on a Seattle roadway isn’t either the Ironman or the Tour de France Prologue, so double dousche-bag points for my tail.  I tried tactic one, and he hung tight. Next I slowed down.  A lot. Again, no dice.

So I scratched my brain.  I considered just pulling over and explaining to him.  I considered stopping.  But then I hit on a solution that in one phlegm covered moment seared the error of his ways into his brain:  I blew a giant snot rocket over my shoulder.  The resulting, “HEY!!!” was priceless.  As was my innocent reply:  ”Oh, Did I hit you with snot? I didn’t realize you were there; I guess next time you should let someone know you’re drafting.”

This has been a submission to the iheartbikes confidential confessional…


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