Why Am I Getting Attacked for Riding My Bike?
My friend Yan and I were riding back into the San Fernando Valley one morning via the popular Box Canyon climb. It’s a short, narrow, winding road that carries you Southward through the Santa Susana Mountains. We were careful to stay at the far right hand side of the road so cars could safely pass. Because my radar is always on, I took notice of the sound of a motorcycle behind me that slowed down next to Yan. Then I heard muffled angry yelling and screaming from inside a helmet. Why was this guy yelling at Yan? As I glanced back to take a look, he accelerated and rode up beside me. Then he screamed at me in the same way and swung his leg out to try and kick me. Fortunately, he missed me by an inch. He then revved up his engine and tried to side swipe me, with his handlebars just passing a few millimeters from mine. A couple inches closer and he would have crashed me into the iron guardrail on my right. He zoomed away so quickly I couldn’t make out his license plate.
Once we mentally recovered, Yan and I dismissed the altercation, as cyclists often do. These incidents happen to us periodically, and I try not to let them get me down. You develop a thick outer skin as a bicycle rider out on busy roads. But this one I couldn’t let go. After some reflection, I grasped that it was not just this attack that upset me; it was the realization that this has happened to me about once every two weeks for the last year and a half. That afternoon, I tweeted the following:
I got dozens of comments and hundreds of likes from around the world. Clearly my statement had touched a nerve. Anecdotally, most cyclists I speak with agree that road rage incidents like this have gotten worse since the beginning of the pandemic. My friend and Los Angeles-based pro cyclist Phil Gaimon made a powerful video recently about he and his wife Emily being attacked by a motorist on a quiet residential street:
So what’s driving this? Without question, people are struggling during the pandemic. While that fact does not excuse dangerous behavior, it may explain it. When I look out at the world, there’s evidence of pandemic-driven suffering all over the place: The number of unruly passengers on airplanes has skyrocketed, homicides have increased dramatically, and opioid deaths have hit record numbers. Many people are having a hard time for many reasons: 630,000 Americans have died from COVID, loneliness, which was already an epidemic of its own, has taken an even greater toll since last year, and there is dire economic stress for many people. On top of all this, the pandemic has laid bare structural inequalities for Black and LGBTQ communities. My observation is that everyone, no matter how rich or how poor, is working through their own significant challenges right now.
At the same time, there are some other things I see in the repeated road rage incidents. 100% of the attacks I’ve endured are with male drivers. I realize that there are also lots of distracted driving incidents, which could happen with any kind of driver. That’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m referring to deliberate, rage-fueled attacks like the guy on the motorcycle. In addition to these assaults being all male, the incidents I’ve witnessed are have all been perpetrated by white men. That could be just my experience, but I’ve never once in the last few years been assaulted by a female or non-white driver. Is white rage a thing? While I haven’t read Carol Anderson’s book yet, I’m inclined to believe that it is. When I observe a driver screaming at me for just riding my bike in a bike lane, I see a mix of entitlement, anger and deep personal pain. I can’t explain why white males would put these issues on display more than any other group, but it seems to be the case.
My hope is that as people get vaccinated (fingers crossed) and as the deadly phase of the pandemic wanes, drivers will stop projecting so much anger on cyclists. On the other hand, I could be overly optimistic, and it may even get worse. That’s a scary thought that I’ll choose to ignore so I can get on my bike tomorrow and go for a ride.
