At The Sharp End Of The War On The Motorist

I’ve been away for a while. No – not “away” like Marty McFly’s uncle Joey – I mean just busy. Flat out full-on deadline-passing late and trying to catch up busy.

Anyway, today I was riding in the rain through the excellent cycle facility that is Newcastle’s Percy Street, when I heard the loudest, strangest vehicle behind me. It sounded like a tractor being ripped apart by that bloke from the James Bond films with the metal teeth.

As I was busy dealing with the homicidal drivers in front of me, and could hear that it was in the next lane, I didn’t bother to look round.

It pulled level with me at the next set of lights:

That’s a tank. A flippin’ tank! With tracks and a gun! A TANK!

The crew seemed to be enjoying themselves, though the driver couldn’t hear my challenge to a race from the lights because of his ear defenders.

I’ve no idea what they were doing in Newcastle, but when I left them, they were heading down to the Bigg Market. From this, I surmise that they had either:

  1. In town to keep the peace. The Bigg Market can get pretty alarming at times.
  2. Stolen the tank à la Mike Watt, and they were just in town for a good time.
I guess we’ll never know.

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Posted in Bike Culture
5 comments on “At The Sharp End Of The War On The Motorist
  1. Carlton Reid says:

    Bet they never get shouted at for “not paying road tax.”

  2. Downfader says:

    Cyclelane enforcer…

  3. katsdekker says:

    Relax. They were after me, I jumped a red.

  4. Daily Mail readers. They’ve heard about the menace you cyclists pose to right thinking folk, and so are doing the responsible thing.

  5. Tom says:

    Did the man offer you a ride in his “little tank” a la lieutenant Gruber ?

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