What the heck just happened? I thought he was going to just keep on driving. He must have decided that since I was alone and the middle of nowhere, he could pick on me. There is no one else around Compared to him, I guess I am little. He appeared to stand a full 6" taller than me, and weigh at least 100 pounds more. Judging by his truck and his dress, he's a manual laborer, meaning he's probably got serious guns.

Next time I probably won't be flicking anyone off. Riding in a pack is a good idea. Oh, and I'll probably be slipping my folding buck knife into my jersey pocket.

The first 45 minutes were so refreshing! The air was still cool, as the sun had yet to bring the Georgia humidity up to a painful boil. The wind was blowing just enough to keep the sweat down, but not enough to be a force to reckon with when riding into it head on. I was thoroughly enjoying watching the countryside roll by at a slower pace, and I noticed cool houses and abandoned stores that surely had stories to tell that I've never noticed while whizzing by in my pickup.I was on the home stretch, with less than 5 miles to go until I reached home. I had the road to myself, and I was thinking, "Hmm, maybe all of the reasons I had for not road riding exist only in my head. I haven't had much traffic to deal with, and the cars that have passed me have all given me plenty of room and have slowed down." I was thoroughly enjoying my ride: it was the perfect way to start the day!No sooner had these thoughts run across my gray matter, then I heard a motor coming up behind my. I scooted over to the right side of the road, just to give him plenty of room. It was a pretty long straight away, and no one was coming the other direction. We were the only two people on the road, nothing to worry about, he had plenty of room to pass.Suddenly, the engine revved up, and a white pickup truck flew by me at over 50 mph, mere inches from my elbow! I was shocked. If I had picked that moment to accidentally swerve just a smidge, he would have clipped me with his mirror, or much worse.He had the entire road to pass me with, there were no turns coming--there was not one single reason for him to make such a dangerous pass.Lacking a car horn, I gave him the one finger salute to express my gratitude for his accomplished passing skills.I know I shouldn't have done it. I'm a little ashamed of my reaction, and I know I should really not have responded at all and just kept riding. Nevertheless, that's what happened.He must have been watching me in his mirror, as he returned the salute. I just thought, "Whatever, buddy," and kept pedaling.Suddenly, the front of the truck dove and a cloud of burnt rubber filled the air as he slammed on the brakes and came screeching to an abrupt halt about 50 yards ahead of me. The driver side door flew open, and a large man vaulted out, throwing his arms back, and screamed:"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you little mother fucker?"A number of thoughts instantaneously coursed through my head:Obviously, this wasn't the response I had been expecting, and I didn't care enough to make a scene, so I tried to defuse the situation:"Hey bro, you could just give me a little room."At this point, his beer belly had finally stopped jiggling from his initial dismount from the driver's seat.My logic and reasoning seemed to go over well, and he responded with an appropriate:"Get your ass out of the goddamn road!"He was still standing with his arms flung back in the "You want a piece of me?" pose, and while I did want a piece of him, I knew this was probably a fight I wouldn't win. He was definitely a manual laborer, and as such he was probably strong as an ox.Now, I have nothing against people that work hard with their bodies to make a living. I have several friends who are contractors, and I myself have spent several years working hard and sweating a lot. Many of my friends in those professions are smart individuals, and I have the utmost respect for them. However, this exhibition clued me in to the fact that this person was definitely a redneck, and that he wasn't smart enough to aspire to anything other than digging holes and picking fights with strangers. I knew that no reasoning I could employ would make any difference.I stood there for a couple of seconds, and neither one of us moved. I was on the homes stretch of my ride, and while I didn't want to pick a fight or attempt to ride past him, there was no way in hell I was going to turn tail and retreat.I decided to simply click into my pedals, and ride in circles and ignore him until he decided to keep on driving. As I turned to make my first circle, he shouted a falsely victorious:"Yeah, that's right bitch," as he climbed back into his truck.I turned around, pedaled back up a little bit, swung around again, and kept making tight circles. The truck didn't pull away immediately, so I know he was watching me. I just kept riding circles, letting him know that there was no way I was going to turn around, but that I was just going to wait. After about 30 seconds, the engine revved up, and he burned more rubber as he pulled away down the road.I pedaled for a couple of seconds, and considered if I should actually keep heading that way. It was definitely the quickest way home, but what if this pot-bellied moron decided to wait for me up ahead and jump me? Well, I decided that if he was really that stupid, I might actually stand a chance with him in a brawl, but that hopefully he'd just keep going wherever he needed to go.In retrospect, I don't think he would have thought of starting something if I had been riding in a pack. At first it looked like he would just be content by saluting me back, but then he slammed on his brakes and decided to make a scene.Anyhow, I have learned a few key lessons for my next road riding adventure :

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Really, I could just use some comment love...