The second type tends to be more of a National or even Global phenomenon, but all the same are much more prevalent in our city. They have literally “graduated” from type number one by virtue of their own self perceived elevated status within the city’s academic hierarchy. En-route to his fledgling high tech company on one of our many science parks, he is a “man with a plan” to develop and exploit his chosen dissertation into a huge money making concern so he can sell up, ditch his dependable Claude Butler and sweep out of the city to an early retirement preferably driving a Lamborghini. He is in inevitably a man and most likely married to “type number one”.
However, in the meanwhile he has to demonstrate how Eco friendly he is, his invisible carbon footprint will promote his eminence as a “genuine and jolly good egg" caring, parsimonious and reliable. The fact that he risks life and limb to all and sundry on a daily basis, is irrelevant, he is right and the motorist is the evil demon to be taunted, tortured and tried to the limit. Luckily locals are alerted to their random approach on the inside, arbitrary appearance traversing our route and other erratic and unpredictable antics, we have to be, any mishap would be bound to be our fault
The Lycra lout, considers himself superior to anyone else on the road, be it motorists, other cyclists, pedestrians and especially “the Law”, red lights are targets to jump, congestion is a slalom competition, traffic free precincts are considered a chicane of Olympian proportions, all negotiated at record speeds, head down, back arched, peripheral vision obliterated; they are literally hell bent on the vicarious thrill of reaching their destination as the crow flies. They traverse, parks, playgrounds, gardens and even cycle through shops with not a second thought to the sanity of their actions.
Their attire is invariably uniform, regulation black cycling leggings (padded bum all the easier to tolerate those vile slither thin saddles), reminiscent of the Max Wall look (style icons they are NOT), navy nylon wind jammer with fluorescent diagonal band, attached to which is a blinding strobe torch light illuminated at all times of the day and night, unicorn-like streamlined cycling helmet, goggles and state of the art racing bike. His rucksack will contain his work attire, probably bought on-line from Black’s or Millet's sale, packed lunch of the thick brown bread variety (made by Ms/Dr type 1) and his unfortunate colleagues will have to put up with the skanky sweaty aroma, wafting from his rancid rucksack, week in and week out……..…mmmmmmmmm…………..nice!!!
However, in the meanwhile he has to demonstrate how Eco friendly he is, his invisible carbon footprint will promote his eminence as a “genuine and jolly good egg" caring, parsimonious and reliable. The fact that he risks life and limb to all and sundry on a daily basis, is irrelevant, he is right and the motorist is the evil demon to be taunted, tortured and tried to the limit. Luckily locals are alerted to their random approach on the inside, arbitrary appearance traversing our route and other erratic and unpredictable antics, we have to be, any mishap would be bound to be our fault
The Lycra lout, considers himself superior to anyone else on the road, be it motorists, other cyclists, pedestrians and especially “the Law”, red lights are targets to jump, congestion is a slalom competition, traffic free precincts are considered a chicane of Olympian proportions, all negotiated at record speeds, head down, back arched, peripheral vision obliterated; they are literally hell bent on the vicarious thrill of reaching their destination as the crow flies. They traverse, parks, playgrounds, gardens and even cycle through shops with not a second thought to the sanity of their actions.
Their attire is invariably uniform, regulation black cycling leggings (padded bum all the easier to tolerate those vile slither thin saddles), reminiscent of the Max Wall look (style icons they are NOT), navy nylon wind jammer with fluorescent diagonal band, attached to which is a blinding strobe torch light illuminated at all times of the day and night, unicorn-like streamlined cycling helmet, goggles and state of the art racing bike. His rucksack will contain his work attire, probably bought on-line from Black’s or Millet's sale, packed lunch of the thick brown bread variety (made by Ms/Dr type 1) and his unfortunate colleagues will have to put up with the skanky sweaty aroma, wafting from his rancid rucksack, week in and week out……..…mmmmmmmmm…………..nice!!!
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