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| There are times however, when I’m on my bike, that I don’t feel welcomed by others on the road. |
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| Sometimes, it goes well beyond a feeling of being unwelcome, it feels like loathing or hatred even. It feels…well…horrible. |
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| Once, a while ago, someone threw a cup of tobacco spit at me from a car window. . . at that moment, I had some hatred myself. |
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I feel
like if I were on the
side of the road, putting along on a tractor… |
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| …or a horse, that I would be tolerated…celebrated, even! On the bike I feel… dare I say…un-American? |
