Stealth Attack

When you give birth to anything, launch it, release it or simply sneak it through a gap in the fence you are beset with worries about its future. Thus it was with this blog. I worry that noone will read it, and so far it seems virtually noone has, and whether there’ll be enough to say. Luckily it seems the London commuting gods are smiling upon me and it’s with fevered excitement that I can give you more.

There are many reasons I ride a bike to work, perhaps we can discuss them later, but my green credentials are not very high on the list. Sure, I know that bikes are good for the world and all, but I also think nothing of putting the bike on the back of a car and driving to somewhere better to ride (and help to erode the features of the country with my wheeltracks). However the same cannot be said for Prius drivers. Surely there is no reason to buy such a horrendously ugly and expensive car apart from to scream about how environmentally aware you are and propagate your caring and empathetic image. This gives nearly getting knocked off by a Prius a special kind of irony.

Turning right from a major road to a minor one is a necessity at the start of my ride home. It gets me onto a shortcut and away from the worst of the traffic. It also means some time in the middle of the road waiting for a gap. I was visible to all the taxis and vans thundering past, but not, it seems, to the Prius driver turning right from the minor road onto the main one. At least, not until she stopped inches from my wheel and looked surprised. Maybe the smug air of saving the world with toxic battery production had hidden me behind some screen, maybe you’re earning so many good green points (like green Tesco clubcard points) in a Prius that the world owes you and nothing bad happens, maybe your silent electric motor makes you believe you are as air and can slip through and round any obstruction. Either way she seemed oblivious to my swearing and to the cars beeping as she now blocked the main road. The confusion allowed me to slip into the side road, but as I passed she still seemed smug, relaxed and detached, not at all like someone who’d nearly flattened me into passing heavy traffic.

So in a Note to Prius Drivers I’d like to finish by saying: Nothing saves the World like not killing cyclists, the methane from their decomposing bodies will do more damage to the planet than you can ever imagine and you’ll destroy your image. Also your stupid silent engines make you the stealth killers of the road. Please you could wind your window down and make engine noises. Thanks

A