Why you don't split
The other day, driving the cage, I had an experience that made me realise just why I will die on a bike.
Sitting at a very busy roundabout, I checked my right, gave way to a car, checked my right again and a gap was just about open, checked left, clear, checked ahead, exit was clear, checked right, gap was there. So I accelerated into the intersection as I quickly checked left, ahead and when I swung my head back to the right... holy shit!!
A bright green Kwaka was a few metres off my driver's door going for the picks.
Who was at fault? Well me of course, I'd obviously not seen him and he was on my right. But where they hell did he come from? He wasn't turning, he'd come straight from my right. But I'd checked the right traffic before I set off and it was a bloody big line of cars, not enough space between them to fit a bike in the queue. So by elimination I figure he'd cruised up the side of the queue, seen a sportsbike sized gap and gone for it... obviously assuming the car driver had seen him, would realise he was going to blip out into the intersection with that power/weight thing and give way to him.
F***ing hate people who ride bikes like me... gonna get themselves killed one day.
"You, Madboy, are the Uncooked Pork Sausage of Sausage Beasts. With extra herbs."
- Jim2 c2006
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