Brian Rogers Rogers Rabbits www.sunlive.co.nz

The tragedy on the roads continues, not only with motor vehicles, but in the last week a spate of cycle deaths to add to the horror.

As a car driver and try-hard cyclist, I see the risks from both sides of the handlebars.
There's no room for mishaps when you're a cyclist. I learnt this the hard way, growing up in Judea when the Waihi Road hill was a giant vortex sucking small boys on bikes, with a full charge of gravity behind them, rattling down to their demise at warp speed.
It was even more challenging for my brother's friend, who discovered the hard way back then, that there were still a few gutter traps with the slots running parallel to the road direction. These neatly trapped the front wheel of skinny racing bike tyres. We were plummeting down the hill, no helmets in those days, our hair on fire like an Apollo space capsule on re-entry – when this guy's front wheel dropped down the grate, the back wheel flipped over and he was a Gone Burger.
These days it would be an automatic ride to hospital to be ‘checked over' but in those days we were tougher than that; we patched up the bike and rider and continued to the Mount, via the railway bridge.

What rain?
Many times young lads venturing around the city on their treadlies ended up rubbing noses with the pukekos in the Judea swamp; their legs and elbows showing signs of high speed contact with the unforgiving tar seal at the bottom of the hill.
These early days also meant biking to college. Wet weather had not been invented, although when it did rain, we either went into denial or spent the school morning drying out sodden uniforms on the radiator heaters. For some, it was the only time their hair got washed properly.
Parents at that stage had not discovered paedophiles, so we were relatively safe from attack.
And there were no alternatives. The Pajero had not been invented either and the soccer mum was still a generation away from creation – she and friends were probably still on their bikes too, riding alongside us trying to stop boys from looking up their gym slips as the cool morning breeze coaxed them tantalisingly up those smooth thighs; well toned from the regular workout on a Raleigh 20 and maybe playing the cello. But alas the tales of my favourite cycling routes are a story for another day.

Early learning
Biking to school was also a great social event, hanging out with your mates on bikes on the way home.
Yep, those early days were a good start to learning the ingrained skills of defensive driving. You HAD to be a defensive driver, anticipate the stupidity of cars coming at you, doors being opened at critical moments and the general antagonistic attitude of car and truck drivers.
By the time I went to a work-sponsored defensive driving course in my 20s, most of the ideas were already well learnt and practised. In fact I was shocked and horrified to think other drivers needed telling these things.
Anticipation! Had they not already figured out to look ahead for possible danger on the road? Were they not tuned into the rogue driver four cars ahead, looking for a dodgy opportunity to pass or cut across?
Had they not reached Mach 3 in the loose metal at the bottom of Waihi Road on a single speed Raleigh Ruster heading for inevitable ass-off, and had to steer for hopefully a soft landing spot in the marshland amongst startled flora and fauna?
Surely all New Zealand drivers have grown up with an innate sense of self-preservation, honed by an upbringing on bicycles? It appears not.

Blissful ignorance
Equally, the car drivers of today are sadly lacking in their appreciation and understanding of the place of the bicycle on the road. I reckon it's because they themselves missed, or have forgotten, that vital cog in their training – years of cycling, complete with its freedoms, simplicity, mishaps, social benefits, and the all-important natural defensive driving lessons.
Behind the handlebars there are some equally arrogant cyclists, some who have clearly never learnt the self preservation techniques and humility that are sometimes needed to stay safe on a bicycle.
We see the worst of this on narrow country roads, where sometimes these tossers think their fluoro tops and lycra-clad bums are automatically some sort of armour against idiots in cars. Worse, they often ride two or three or more abreast on hopelessly skinny roads.
Being in the right does not give a bike a force field of immunity.
Sure it may be their right – but lessons from Waihi Road from the dark ages remind us it's a scrap the cyclist will never win.
The mayhem starts when they also coincide with vehicles coming in both directions, a dog walker on the verge or a horse or other rural oddity thrown into the mix.

Benefits of experience
It's time we all started taking more care on the road, and especially of cyclists. Its time for cyclists to think more defensively (if that's possible), and time for more car drivers to spend more time on bikes.
Not only would this give them a better appreciation of life (and its preservation) from the saddle, but would get some cars off the road as well.
More kids riding to school instead of getting mummy or daddy to drop them off would also help them later in life in their defensive attitudes. And there's a plus for lessening peak time congestion. We've all seen the drop in traffic volume that occurs every school holiday.
Get the little darlings cycling, it's better for their health, too.
In following weeks we'll take a look at cycling in Tauranga today.
In the meantime, be careful out there. brian@thesun.co.nz