This morning on my daily commute I had the chance to eye up the opposition like never before.
At the first set of traffic lights, up rolled a Dahon 8 speed. Now I don't want to upset Brompton lovers out there, but I used to own a Dahon before I saw the light. Anyway, I glanced across and nodded to my biking cousin, twice removed. He nodded back. There was at least cordial communication and a slight deference to the pinnacle of folding bikes from this Dahon rider.
Literally five minutes later up rolls a bright yellow Birdy folding bike, daring to compete with my brighter orange. There was no nod. No deference. This Birdy rider actually felt smug. Superior even. He didn't tell me that but it was plain to see by all in his eyes. Right, I thought to myself.
With the lights turning green our Birdy friend was off and proceeding well up a fairly steep incline almost immediately after the lights. He was out of his seat and going for it. I on the other hand stayed seated in my Brooks saddle and found myself overtaking.
This with hindsight was a bad move. If I had a video clip of this episode of bitter rivalry I fear I would have resembled that witch from the, Wizard of Oz. All I would have needed was Toto sitting in my Brompton C bag to complete the overall look. Needless to say I backed off and resumed the dignity of a gentleman Brompton rider.
Tomorrow no matter what rolls up beside me I will neither sneer or pass judgement at my fellow cyclist, regardless of what they ride. I will just wish that the roads of our Capital City are filled with more cyclists.