From myrddin.imat.com!miwok!bdt.com!hal.COM!darkstar.UCSC.EDU!ico.net!news1.best.com!nntp1.best.com!shellx.best.com!not-for-mail Tue Jun 18 17:18:03 1996 Path: myrddin.imat.com!miwok!bdt.com!hal.COM!darkstar.UCSC.EDU!ico.net!news1.best.com!nntp1.best.com!shellx.best.com!not-for-mail From: doosh@shellx.best.com (Tom Holub) Newsgroups: rec.bicycles.soc,rec.bicycles.misc,ba.bicycles,ba.transportation,ca.driving Subject: Re: assaults on bicyclists Date: 14 Jun 1996 09:37:55 -0700 Organization: Best Internet Communications Lines: 39 Message-ID: <4ps4h3$br2@shellx.best.com> References: <4lgn10$ids@eldborg.rhi.hi.is> <4or63e$533@nntp1.best.com> <31B8DD95.383D@csus.edu> <4prq6i$lmh@noc2.drexel.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: shellx.best.com Xref: myrddin.imat.com rec.bicycles.soc:8343 rec.bicycles.misc:14624 ba.bicycles:703 ba.transportation:8113 ca.driving:10801 In article <4prq6i$lmh@noc2.drexel.edu>, Dave Mays wrote: )Here's an interesting case..... ) ) )One morning on my way to work in Philadelphia, I nearly got into a VERY )BAD situation. It's a 2 mile ride from my house to the Tfrnklin )Institute where I work. Most of that ride is on Ben Franklin Parkway. )This particular morning, some asshole in a Cadillac nearly ran me off the )road, narrowly missing me by about 6 inches, (I was in the shoulder) and )then blew his horn to signify that I was in his way or whatever. Copyright (c) 1989 by Robert Fishell Excerpt from "Spike Bike--Lord of the Rednecks" Used without permission [In the year 1998, one man fights the tyrrany of the automobile] --- I heard it before I saw it. An ancient Cadillac convertible was closing very quickly from the rear. There was nothing ancient about its electronics; at least 1000 watts of amplifier power screamed raunchy C&W from god knows how many speakers. It sounded even worse for the doppler shift; he was doing at least 100. That was stupid. He would try to clip me in the side, because people in snazzy cars always try to clip me in the side, and at that speed, he wouldn't be able to maneuver. I feinted to the left when he closed to within a few hundred feet, then cut right abruptly when he'd committed himself. He missed me by a good four feet. As he roared past, I opened up on the tires with my MAC-10, shredding them. The Caddy swerved crazily, rolled over twice, and slid off the road upside down. Crazy as it seemed, that godawful music was still blaring out from the wreckage. I fired another burst into the gas tank, and the racket stopped as the wreck went up in a huge ball of orange flame. The driver's Stetson hat lay in the road perhaps 50 feet away, virtually undamaged -- unlike the driver, who had no further use of it. I emptied the rest of the mag into it, chasing it down the asphalt, cutting it to scraps. Sure as shootin', I was in Texas. I'm Spike Bike. I hate cars. I don't care much for C&W, either.