Three things people said to me while I was out riding yesterday (a 1.5-hour loop from North Berkeley, up Tunnel Road, down Grizzly Peak):
*”Hi.” (One of four cyclist who passed while I was dropping off something at a friend’s house).
*Be careful!” (Another cyclist on Tunnel Road warning me about a car approaching from behind. I was in an awkward spot on a curve, trying to turn left. Everything turned out fine.)
*F— you! You punk!” (A driver on Euclid Avenue in Berkeley. He had pulled his aged white Mazda in front of me when I was doing about 30 down the hill. It was an oblivious move, but didn’t result in too close a call. Within a block or two, he put on his turn signal to go right, and was staring at me as I passed him (I knew because I looked over at him). I said, “Honest to God …” in a sort of resigned way, and he responded with the above. It came out in an enraged scream that made me realize 1) he probably didn’t hear what I said and 2) he had worse problems than careless driving. I was relieved he didn’t follow me.)