For reasons I suspect my inbox and the comments section below will soon make obvious, this column has steered carefully away from the subject of cycling. It should probably stick to something less divisive, like fox hunting or welfare cuts.
But the other evening, I was driving home from a photoshoot on a clear, wide, straight and well-sighted single-carriageway A-road, at around the 60mph limit in a sports car.
There was only one other person on the road: a cyclist coming towards me on a road bike. As we passed, each comfortably in our lane with a large gap between us, he shook his head. I think at me. For a moment I thought, perhaps, he had a fly behind his sunglasses, but I think not. I think it was a shake of disapproval. Like he had taken sides.
Now, this is a motoring column. So, you might be thinking, I’m going to suggest that this is because he was – let me reach for my big book of clichés – a tub-thumping Lycra-clad cycle lout who jumps red lights, mows down pedestrians and doesn’t even pay for the upkeep of the road. Well, no. I don’t really think like that.
There are no sides here. I have a bicycle too; it’s a mountain bike I’ve had for 23 years and it’s one of my most treasured possessions. I ride it. I also have a motorcycle, a quiet car, a noisy car and I keep horses. Sometimes I even walk. So at various times I am one of a motorist, a cyclist, a motorcyclist and a pedestrian, while those I love dearest are horse riders. So, no, there are no sides. Just individuals.
So matey on his bike here didn’t annoy me with his head shake because he was on a bike, but because he seemed a bit sanctimonious, when I thought I was bothering nobody. I suspect he’d have the same character whether he was cycling, driving a car or walking.