Fat cats, skinny tires
A couple of letters to the editor last week, urged bicyclists and motorists to share the road, spurred plenty of vitriol, particularly from the motorized set.Advised one reader:Beep once, beep twice, then run these bikers off the road. I will not cross a double line into on coming traffic just to get out of the way of an obnoxious biker.Then came this:Next time I suggest liberal use of your horn.Followed by this:Lay on that sucker till the Lance Armstrong wannabes get the hint. and if Mick Ireland is one of them, make sure you back up and run over the little twit again.Another reader had this to say:On a two lane road, I will not wait behind two cyclists riding 2 abreast for traffic to clear in the opposite lane. If you idiots dont move to single file when you realize I am there, I will make sure you know I am there.This response followed:How will you let us know you are there? By the smell of fast food coming out of your pores you fat lazy American.A separate exchange brought this:Instead of vehicles needing to share the road with bikers, how about BIKERS share the road with vehicles. You tour de Francers are all the same, stop trying to act like your in a race and realize cars hurt more than bikes.Then came this response:Hit somebody on a bike, and you’re not going to like what awaits you in a courtroom. Hope that you have deep pockets, at the very least.Followed by this:Intentionally hitting someone on a bike is one thing, but if the biker is riding on the right side of a line of cars, it is open season.Another reader offered this excerpt:Theres nothing more infuriating than being late to an appointment/job, and being hindered by thoughtless cyclists. The same is equally true of cyclists who dont yield, dont stop, and more or less ignore traffic signs.On the other hand, I’ve been the recipient of anger from motorists, too, when Ive been riding, alone, along the side of a road. Ive had crap thrown at me, been cussed out, and endured other abuse from motorists bent on letting me know theyre there, even when I’m not slowing them down, or hindering their progress at all.There are inconsiderate jerks in cars/trucks and on bikes, both. Neither group owns the roads, legally, and if youre threatening to act out your aggressions on somebody biking beside you, you need to seriously consider anger management intervention before you do something stupid.Finally, there was this reply:Wow! Everybody sure is tough riding around in their 5,000 pound Hummers. Next time someone on a bike makes you late for your next facial, pull over and let them know so they can have a good laugh. Who knew that being a rich fat cat living in the Roaring Fork Valley meant you can run over people in the streets? Some of you need to pull your heads out of your asses.Kudos for swimmersA June 13 article about infants and toddlers learning to swim at the Aspen Club & Spa, on the other hand, elicited praise:Very cool! There is a lot of water in this valley. I believe that it is more important to teach your kids to swim than ski.Said another reader:Great article! There’s so many accidental drownings every year, its nice to read a swimming story with a happy ending!Where theres smokeThe cause of last weeks devastating fire at the Castle Ridge Apartments, apparently a smoldering cigarette, also prompted comment. An excerpt:Another good reason why cigarettes should just be illegal. Millions live happy lives without those nasty things so why cant the rest of you who currently smoke do the same?Said another:Cant wait for someone to blame the fire on cigarettes and not the person who was negligent. That cigarette should have known to put itself out! Get ready…….its coming…….There was also this advice:I happen to know that one tenant in that unit smokes cigarettes and the other one does not. keep that in mind people. this was an accident. Readers may comment on any article at aspentimes.com, anonymously if they wish, by clicking on Comments at the top of the article. Comments printed here appear as they were posted, without editing or correction.