In light of the sheer amount of water that’s landed on the Peak, this week, I thought I’d head out on the roadie today. Had a lovely ride over the Snake to Glossop, Hayfield, Chapel, Edale, then home.
Coming out of Hathersage, heading up to Foxhouses I caught up with a bunch of CTCers. Lots of “unique” bike setups, beards and Ron Hills, enough luggage to circumnavigate the globe, you know the sort. Now each to their own – not a style of riding that floats my boat, but if they’re having fun, then crack on. Amongst all the Rohloffs and Tourney gear, there’s also an e-bike.
I’m moving significantly faster than they are, so I say “Hi” to them all as I go past and carry on my merry way (last climb, so I’m giving it some). 30secs later I realise I’ve picked up a Klingon. A glance over my shoulder confirms that it’s Mr E-bike. He proceeds to sit on my back wheel for most of the climb (actually, he’s doing that really irritating thing of sitting out a bit, so I can’t see what’s coming up behind me). Doesn’t say a word until about 100m from the top, when he pulls along side and very smugly announces
“Don’t worry I’m on an electric bike”
“I bloody well know you are!” says I.
“Oh. How’d you work that out” Comes the very crestfallen reply.
“The 2″ rear tyre, the enormous hub and the whacking great battery pack kinda give it away”
“You’re not supposed to spot that.” With that I hear the sound of a shifter going and he vanishes backwards.
Now is it just me, or is that all a bit crap? If he’d wanted a blast, then great. If he’d offered to give me a tow up, I’d have accepted, and then had a chat. Hell, if he’d wanted to sit on my wheel, all he needed to do was ask. But to wheelsuck, uninvited, whilst trying to make it look like skinnylycraboy can’t drop a pensioner seems to shout “small willy” to the world. The sheer disappointment in his voice when he realised that he’d been spotted from the word go, and I was riding hard just because I wanted to was actually quite funny, but the behaviour itself still rankles…