Tamaki Drive popped into this thread backaways which sparked my interest.
There has never been a circumstance where the crawling motorised mob hold up our lycra encased bretheren. There are a few reasons for this, not least of which is the fact that the cyclista pop down the left of the dawdling cages for the vast bulk of the journey, using the bus lane, the white lined zone wherever it's available and just undertaking the motors where it's not.
When in some bizarre circumstance that's not possible, the cyclista pop along the outside for a spell before swerving majestically back onto the shoulder. This, as you can imagine, means that the 6.45am to 8.45am snarl-up of horseless carriages is of no consequence to the majority of the cyclonauts at all, since they invariably navigate around them at the greatest velocity their quads can manage.
If all else fails, and the above mentioned manouevres are rendered void, the cycle-mounted speedsters could, at a pinch, assuming they would lower themselves to indulge, use the [gasp!!!] actual cycle lane that the city fathers generously provide for them, this lane extending the full length of Tamaki Drive.
But for some reason, they simply won't have a bar of it. (See what I did there?)
Perhaps the cycle lane clashes with the graphics on the Lance-Armstrong-Wannabe lycra couture that they pose about in on each and every trip. (And it appears to be a rule that you can't wear the same outfit on consecutive days). Or maybe using the cycle lane undermines the studied metrosexual chic that being a part of the cyclisti imbues on their waxen-legged personas.
Whatever it may be, one thing is for certain - they would sooner be in peril of maiming-by-automobile than to use that cycle lane.
On the return journey from the city, there's a rather narrow bit outside the Mechanics Bay complex where the drivers in the left lane must squeeze their voitures between the right hand road marking and the casually disorganised chaos that passes for parallel parking in Auckland on their left. This is somewhat like threading a needle with a bit of swiftly travelling number 8 wire and most days the road is littered with exterior mirror particles.
Imagine then, the daily chagrin experienced by the home-bound motorist who, intent on upholding his or her self worth by accomplishing the needle-threading at the expected 60 kph, finds that a gaggle of cyclemaniacs have run the red (as usual) and are traversing the bottleneck at an Armstrong-frightening 30 kph.
And the bottleneck continues for a km or so, with the frustrated motornauts queued seethingly behind the oblivious cycletards before losing it entirely and lurching into the right hand lane, itself replete with tunnel-visioned, wheel-gripping queue jumpers looking for the smallest sign of weakness from those in the left lane so they can push their way in and gain a self-worth enhancing single car space in front of some imagined opponent.
And guess what? Yes Virginia. You are correct - there's a perfectly good cycle lane which has been graciously and generously provided by the city for that band of lycra-loving denizens, the cyclists. But they won't use it.
Perhaps the motormaniacs might use it instead, because there's not a hint of a cyclist on there. Ever.

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