Ever been riding your bicycle and have a passing motorist honk/yell/flip you the bird? I have, and in one unusual circumstance a few years ago on Sturgeon Road, it almost lead to an altercation of some sort.

I've come to accept that these sorts of disagreements are inevitable, so what is a innocent cyclist to think when a motorist decides to assert their views? Well, I've finally found an essay which explains what motorists really mean when they scream at you to get off the road.

Get Off The Fucking Road

Matter Journal, Issue #5, Wheels

There may be a day while you are riding your bike. A motorist passes you, and calls out, "Get off the fucking road!" You may be puzzled. What do these words mean?

The key to understanding this motorist's cry is to realize that the road does not copulate with itself. Rather, it is you who is partnered with the road.

Have you not had a day, where you get out there on your bike, and there is the road before you, warm, inviting? It feels good, it smells good, it almost seems to taste good to be on it. Some days you start out eager, knowing what lies ahead. Other days you start out a little reluctantly -- surely you have better things to do -- clean the house, mow the lawn -- but here you are anyway, your bike and the road together, and after a little bit you know its going to be a good time.

There are days when you dominate the road. It does your bidding. You groove on your control. There are other days when the road is your master. You submit to its demands. You get a perverted pleasure from the pain of your burning legs, your oxygen-starved lungs screaming for air.

In any of these instances, though, you with your bike, and the road, are lovers. The term, "get off" as we all know, is a slang term that means to "derive pleasure". Thus, the encouraging, if crude, words, "Get off the fucking road" can be understood as "Enjoy yourself as you and the road make beautiful love together".

To take this a step further -- in many mystical traditions, the physical act of love is understood as a metaphor for the spiritual union of human with the Divine. Can you ride as if you and the Road are One?

The mudra of the single upraised digit is a reminder of this oneness: unity in Christ Consciousness, being at one with the Tao, La illaha Il' Allah, Adonai Echad. Thus, when someone makes this gesture at you, you should understand that they are wishing you the experience of this ecstatic union.

The horn that is honked as the mudra is made is a meditation bell. Like a church bell, like the call of the muezzin's voice, it calls you into this sacred space of union, of you, your bike, and the road, as One.

Thus, when the motorist honks his horn, raises the single digit, and makes his sincere invocation, you have but one response: to smile, to wave, and return to the joy of riding your bike.

So today, after rolling out of bed at a suitably late hour, I got on my bike and started cycling. My goal: to ride 100 miles and win my division of the 100 Miles of Nowhere.

Naturally I didn't do this alone, I had Christopher Eccleston keeping me entertained and distracted from the task at hand. While watching the Time Lord battle Daleks and manner of unseemly creatures, I steadily added to the miles.

The first 30 or so went by extremely quickly, but by the last 30 things had really started to drag. I was getting sore and tired, and that crisis with the Dalek just wasn't holding my attention as well as I would have liked. I started watching the odometer more which, as always, has the unintended effect of making time pass that much more slowly.

However; as an accountant I am certainly no stranger to boredom so I persevered. After five episodes, a few snacks, and a couple of breaks I achieved my goal. Over the course of 4 hours and 40 minutes I had cycled 100 miles and won my division (27 year old male accountants from Saint Boniface). This might even count as my first 'century' ride.

Right now I'm thinking I might give my bicycle a bit of a break. I'd certainly consider doing this again, but not for another year. Most of my schemes and plans now revolve around my kayak as opposed to my bike, but I'm sure I'll find something equally bizarre to do next.

You'll be the first to know.

Pictures from that day that I rode 100 miles on a stationary bike in a 'race' which is loosely tied to the Lance Armstrong Foundation. Needless to say, I won my division.

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