Letter of the week: Leave Hartlepool's cycle paths for the cyclists
Tyre pressure '“ check!
Takes a few minutes to click on the helmet, check the lights, fill up the water bottle and secure my lock.
Okay, away we go.
Riding on the road, on the left hand side, no more than one metre away from the kerb or parked cars on the road.
How I love getting high off the engines of other road users, pulling up behind gas blowing vehicles and maniacs who think they own the road.
How I love the abuse from your horns or the outcry from your seats. I laugh.
Waiting for that red light to turn green, admiring other cyclists who bunny hop onto kerbs, run the red or just simply ride the pavement, mowing down those nasty pedestrians. I laugh at their screams.
It’s my turn to take the corners at crossings or to join the roundabout.
Check behind, signal and position myself correctly into a lane but, like always, a rebel car, van or lorry has to ride alongside me.
I scream abuse that it’s one vehicle at a time.
One vehicle in the box junction dear road users - and that goes for you as well, mister police car, who is up my behind. Yippy, a cycle path.
An extremely small part of the pavement that is red (for us cyclists).
Not for pedestrians to gather and natter on.
Not for a bus stop to be purposely placed there just so you go splat.
Those useless bike paths on the road, where cars love to park – they are not for cars to use as parking spaces. I cry.
Those vehicles that get up on your behind, those that give you no room as they speed past you or open their car doors just as you pass. Oh, I love cycling.
But apart from all that – seeing other cyclists of all ages, all backgrounds without helmets, no lights, running on the metal of their wheels on a vehicle that shouldn’t even be classed as road worthy just makes me laugh.
Oh, I love cycling on my bike.
Blowing my new air horn at wrong-doing drivers and slandering those cyclists that grind my gears.