Over it!

Do you ever get the feeling that it's all a waste of time? That everything you do is pissing into the wind? Right at the moment I have that feeling in regard to riding my bike on the Gold Coast. Yesterday was bad enough with it's horn-honking, fist-shaking, kerb-squeezing morons. One tosspot had a really good go in Sufferer's Parasite. It's just as well I was riding well away from it and therefore gave myself a little space to play with -- I mightn't be here to type this otherwise. It may or may not have been deliberate on his part, that's probably a 50/50 call, he may have just been totally incompetent. Either way, I've since given some more thought to moving my commute permanently to use Bundall Road. Personally I prefer riding by the sea, but that may not be an option later in the day when the morons come out to play.

Then today I rode past another cyclist who had crashed. Another "incident" with a driver -- although I don't know much about what really happened here. All I really got to see of it was a driver full of excuses trying to blame everyone and everything else they could think of. Granted, they stayed to offer assistance, but I can't help thinking that's because leaving the scene of an "accident" is a prosecutable offence.

It's probably just as well that I'm able to enjoy riding in spite of all this. All in all I enjoy my lifestyle, but I'm left wondering whether the Gold Coast is really the place to pursue it anymore. A friend of mine in Hobart just had a wonderful ride around Tasmania -- and I know from my own tour down there that I could handle that. I guess it's just a matter of plucking up the guts to leave my job and situation here and just go for it. I also feel a little guilty about bringing the benefits of cycling, namely cleaner air and enhanced traffic flow (it wasn't cyclists causing that gridlock on the Sundale Bridge today) to people that simply don't deserve them. I've half a mind just to dismiss the whole city contemptuously and leave them to it -- after all, what difference am I really making here, in the tide of ignorance and resentment that cyclists have to deal with everyday?

On the other hand, I'm set to meet Martin for an Austinville ride tomorrow night, and I know that after heading for the rainforests for an evening -- or even only an hour, I will suddenly feel much happier about my lot. Of course, how long that happiness lasts is open to question, but would life really be perfect anywhere else?