First Jerk

I met my first jerk ten days after arriving in Germany.

Other than the surly cashier at the market – common, I was told – people had been friendly. On my bike I’d only been honked at once, and that was my fault. So it was ironic that the jerk was another bike racer.

It was my first race in Germany, and I was nervous. Everything was strange. There were no teammates or friendly faces. No usual pre-race routine. At the start I saw guys look around, then look at me: the unfamiliar racer.

The race started fast, but not really any different than back at home. There were attacks and counter-attacks, fast periods followed by slow. It was a regular bike race. Still, I was nervous.

About halfway through the race, a guy on my right moved over abruptly. I moved too, probably overreacting. I felt someone to my left give me a big push. When I turned to look he started yelling at me in German. He put his hand on my hip and shoved me to the side. Then he tried to ride across my front wheel.

In all the races I’ve done in the US, I can only recall two occasions where someone rode with such intentional aggression, and it wasn’t this extreme. And here it happens in my first race.

I rode up next to the guy and tried to say, in German, “hey, the other guy moved into me.” But with trying to ride, breath, and speak at the same time, I’m pretty sure I made no sense. I didn’t anticipate making enemies already and now had visions of someone hassling me every race. In that one moment, Germany became less friendly. I wished my teammates were with me.

I felt I needed to do something. With 6 laps to go I attacked solo, 2 laps before a prime (a mid-race prize). I had a big gap, and it looked like I would win the prime until my left contact lens came out in the wind. With essentially one eye I had to go easy into the turns. Another guy caught me at the line for the prime – a teammate of my new friend. I rode the last couple laps at the back, happy for the race to be over.

The lost contact lens meant driving home on the Autobahn with one eye. With Audis, BMWs and Mercedes flying by, I didn’t dare enter the left lane. I just listened to the voice on my car’s navigation system when it said, “keep to the right for the A46 …”