Folks,
Recently, on one of the National Forest Service Roads here, I've gotten behind a couple of different rigs that both blocked me. In other words, they knew I was behind them, knew I was faster, and they both refused to pull over to let me by; for miles. Now; if you pull up behind me, I'll pull over & let you pass, right now. Go on by, Man, NO need for me to block you in, it goes the same way for me as driving in the left lane on the highway, if you ain't passing, GET OVER in the right lane.
So; let's hear it, what's it like in other areas of the country?
Here's the rest of the story on what happened yesterday:
So I come up behind this RZR 1000, he makes me sit behind him for about 5 miles, we come to a split in the road, I pull in on the left, he's on the right. I look over at him & ask him if there's a reason he blocked me in, I told him "you have a big assed mirror, I know you saw me". He's a big boy, (I am too but not like this guy; me 5'11 & 235 & he 6'4 or 5 & 300+).
He looks over at me & says "F u, I saw you behind me, you were riding my a.., (I was back 50-150 feet) and I don't have to let you pass, no need for you to drive that fast anyways". I told him; "so you control my speed, who in the f put you in charge, you're not a cop".
So he pulls by me, spouting some nonsense, and I yelled out to him that he's the same ahole that sits in the left lane on the highway. He tells me I'm another Washington (State) puke, and I told him I live on this mountain, and have for 20 years; and to f off. This is where it gets fun/exciting:
He jumps out of his rig, (by now he's about 40 feet or so away from me); he yells at his wife; "get my pistol, I'm gonna shoot this mf'er!" and he starts walking towards me like he's wanting some. Me, (like a moron) I throw my glasses on the seat next to me, I jump out and he stops walking, but I don't, I walk up to him, put my finger in his chest, and I told him that if we go; he's going to get hurt, and I meant it. I wasn't afraid, of him; his pistol, or his size; his bigger head just makes me a bigger target.
He turns around & all but runs to his RZR, he jumps in, (I thought he was grabbing the pistol, I was just going to dive over the bank going downhill; he'd have NEVER hit me with a pistol, no way). But he screamed off down the trail.
I sit there for a minute & decompress, then I took off after him on the NFS road. After a mile or two, I get behind him again, and he pulls over, I pull up right beside him, him & his wife are looking at me like I'm pure crazy....I jump out of my rig, run around to his, and stick out my hand, to shake his; I told him "I'm Chris Walsh, I live on this mountain, and I was a jerk, so were you, we need to put this garbage behind us, right now, you don't need to shoot anybody & I don't need to kick anyone's ass, so what do you say, let's bury it & you can tell me all about your new RZR & I'll tell you about my new CF Moto's".
They both settled right down, we talked for about a half hour, shook hands & went our ways; how it should have been in the first place.
Chris