When I first started riding, I had a pathological fear of trucks and buses and basically anything big with four wheels. You fear them screaming along side you, the power of their exhausts blowing you into the side of a building, like the Replicant in Bladerunner that goes crashing through all the plate glass windows. Dramatic? Moi?
Turns out that they are the least scary things on the road. I don’t know what it is about people in big vehicles, but they will give you the widest berth you can imagine. I could swing a dead cat around while I ride and never touch the side of the Hummer that cruises by. Maybe they have the same fear that I’m going to explode if they get too close, or maybe driving something that size has distorted their spatial perspective. Either way, you hear them coming a mile away, hear them berthing, then see them drive off out of reach of your dead cat.
No, the scariest thing on the road it turns out, was someone I thought to be a friend. Someone I’ve championed and lauded. Someone I used to think worthy of praise. Until I discovered that they are silent hunters that would put Jaws to shame.
I speak of the Toyota Prius.
You never hear those planet saving bastards coming. That low emission hybrid engine cruises along in stealth mode. You only see it when it’s right on top of you and you yell the name of your God to the sky.
That little do-gooder car is keeping me up at night as I sweat bullets, wondering when the next time will be that it pounces me unannounced. Sure I care about the planet, but it’s easier to care about it while I’m still walking it.
Who killed the electric car? No idea, but I’ll buy the guy a beer.