Bike-rider ? Were not they totally likeable in the old days?
When I was asked in good weather, if I would like to go on a bike ride, I said joyfully, put on a picturesque fluttering dress in the wind and packed a picnic package in the basket of my Dutch bike. Then it went downhill? unfortunately only in the figurative sense. Apparently today there are no bike rides more than 60 kilometers per day, because men need a long-haul destination. Guys used to buy a Porsche in the mid-life crisis. Today it has to be a sauteures bike that shows everyone what kind of machine they are. And of course the complete equipment: the alien helmet, the puck glasses and the bike racing shorts that look like Heidi Klum's bodypainting challenge. I did not know where to look away first.
The Tour d? Amour was a torture
As I climbed another hill at kilometer 13, a few mischievous grinning retirees overtook me effortlessly. It was not dawn on the double power of the two hearts, but on their e-bikes, the old man's Harley, that dawned on me when my mood and condition had a record. Incidentally, road accidents on e-bikes have massively increased traffic accidents between 2015 and 2018. Accident researcher Siegfried Brockmann says: "Many older people drive much faster than their capabilities allow, thanks to the support of the electric motor." In city traffic, however, it is bad for everyone. As space is getting scarcer here, the traffic planning authorities have simply given up. Instead of making the city suitable for cycling, after years of road conversions there is only an undefined, concreted "shared space", which is in good German language - the right of the fittest? means and encourages communication among road users? should. I'll put it this way: If you ring an aggressive time and? I'll get you right down there, you A ...? for communication, then the concept has succeeded.
The hobbyist, the Skandi-Muddi and the hipster cyclist
Cyclists were always the good, the cozy, gentle for nature and nerves. Now most people like accidents looking for a place to happen. Between driving and negligent there is only one pedal turn: There are those who drive freehand while still typing on their mobile phone. Then there's the hipster with the zodiac road bike, which is as filigree and beautiful as a ink drawing? and also inoperative. Which is not bad, because it rarely comes from the wall bracket on the road. Also often behind me: the hobbyist who is always left rechtslinks right on switching. If one waits at a red traffic light, the passage protagonist passes by and passes over the intersection, as if it had been blocked for him. On the other hand, the Scandi-Muddi pushes itself off the sidewalk in self-righteous fashion, pushing a small caravan in front of it at the exhaust level, in which three children and a dog are sitting. Phew. And honestly? My next date will be a walk.
