On 27 Apr 2007 21:44:08 GMT,
[email protected] wrote:
>Ben C? writes:
>
>>>> Um, nowhere in the above does it actually say that *you* are doing
>>>> the racing - someone with quadriplegia and television coverage of
>>>> the Tour could easily have stated the same thing.
>
>>> Yes. Of course. For the record, please add the following at the
>>> begining of my post
>
>>> "In my experience ..." (which I believe was implicit in the post
>>> to begin with)
>
>>> I might also add that while riding (not racing) the other day I
>>> recognized a benefit that the mirror naysayers totally ignore in
>>> their straw arguments regarding an inability to see all rearward
>>> hazards. The issue is not so much what you can't see but what you
>>> can. In other words, if you look in your mirror and see an
>>> car/rider/etc coming from the rear you have saved yourself the need
>>> to turn to look. If you see nothing you can still turn and look if
>>> you so choose.
>
>> I think a mirror would be useful for preserving the air of studied
>> nonchalance necessary when racing other commuters on the way home
>> while pretending not to.
>
>That is the way I most often experience the mirror routine. While
>riding on a road with long visibility, I find myself catching up to a
>lone rider on occasion and think to myself, this might be sociable
>company. However, when I get withing 50 yards, I notice that I'm not
>closing the gap anymore so I start looking for the mirror.
>
>I am amazed how antisocial such riders can be and that they would
>rather ride alone than exchange conversation with another person.
>Fortunately, mirror racers are not the majority of reflective users.
>
>Jobst Brandt
Dear Jobst,
A hitherto unknown version of a well-known tale was waiting in my
post-box when I returned this afternoon from a long journey to the
still-snowy northern reaches of Colorado.
Those unfamiliar with the story may google for "foul bauble of man's
vanity."
Cheers,
Carl Fogel
I had stopped by the roadside just before dawn with a flat tire and
adjusted my bicycle mirror to reflect the streetlight's rays on my
work.
I was just beginning to shave the seam off a punctured inner tube with
a sharp flint, preparatory to patching it.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard Count B-----'s voice
saying to me, "Good morning." I started, for it amazed me that I had
not seen him, since the reflection of the bicycle mirror covered the
road behind me.
In starting I had cut my inner tube slightly again, but did not notice
it at the moment.
Having answered the Count's salutation, I turned to the bicycle mirror
again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no
error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my
shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole
road behind me was displayed, but there was no sign of a man in it,
except myself.
This was startling, and coming on the top of so many strange things,
was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I
always have when the Count is near.
But at that instant I saw the cut had bled a little green Slime, and
the Slime was trickling over my inner tube. I laid down my sharp piece
of flint, turning as I did so half round to look for a Rema patch.
When the Count saw my cut inner tube leaking Slime, his eyes blazed
with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my Presta
valve.
I drew away and his hand touched the goathead that I had extracted
from the tire and laid next to the inner tube.
It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that
I could hardly believe that it was ever there.
"Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It is more
dangerous that you think in this country."
Then seizing my bicycle mirror, he went on, "And this is the wretched
thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity.
Away with it!"
And with one wrench of his terrible hand, he tore my bicycle mirror
off the handlebar and flung it over the bluff, where it shattered into
a thousand pieces on the stones of the Arkansas River far below.
It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to be aware of
overtaking motor-carriages, unless it is near dusk and their
headlights reflect in my front rim, which is fortunately of metal.
Jonathan Harker
