Order Isoniazid With No Prescription

On this morning's ride I had the distasteful duty of offering a stiff rebuke to a small group of Freds who were acting as a rolling asshat parade. One of the features of my usual weekend rides is the dam across Grapevine Lake. It's a 2-lane road that is pretty much the only flat sequence in anyone's ride around here. Many cyclists use it on their rides, as it connects a couple of cycling hotbeds (Grapevine and Flower Mound) and, being the only flat surface around here, it's a nice place to test yourself for a flat 1.75km trial now and then. This morning I was approaching the dam when I saw a group of four riders about kilometer ahead of me. They were riding 2 abreast (2x2) and I was catching them. The approach to the dam turns the road from a 4-lane boulevard into a 2-lane, 2-way road. Even semi-experienced cyclists know that such a change requires a different approach to how one uses the lane and interacts with vehicle traffic approaching from the rear. These guys didn't. As we were approaching the dam, I noticed that a couple of cars coming up behind them induced no change their group configuration. They continued to ride 2 abreast and the cars behind them had to wait for oncoming traffic to abate before moving into the oncoming lane to go around the cyclists. I figured that someone in back had failed to detect the cars, as a momentary failure of perception. No biggie. I continued to gain ground on them and noticed that though 2 wide, they were riding so far apart that they were effectively 3 wide on the road; taking up the entire southbound lane. This configuration is a clear indication of inexperienced riders; riding with 4 or 5 feet between riders due to discomfort with proper group spacing (group riders should be able to extend and almost touch fingertips from the hoods). When the 3rd and 4th cars to catch them had to endure the same sort of wait while the group of idiots maintained their Fred-like configuration, I wondered why the patrón of the group hadn't instituted necessary order in aggressive fashion. Then it became clear: there was no patrón. This was a group of newbies and they thought they were riding correctly on this narrow, 2-lane road. The speed limit on this road is 45mph, but the cars are typically going 60mph. They were in desperate need of unfucking themselves, but no one there knew to do it. These guys were screwing up traffic, being a menace to road safety, soiling local cyclists' reputations, and probably about to get killed. Or worse yet, get someone else killed. I was livid. I jumped out of the saddle and sprinted the 500m to catch up with them. During my sprint, a 5th car caught them and had to linger behind, waiting for clear oncoming traffic so it could go around. Dumbassess! I soon caught them, whereupon I shouted at the back pair, "HEY! Single the fuck up on this road when you've got cars back!". My facial expression alone probably shouted doom and when the two rear guys heard me they immediately switched to single file. The 2 in front didn't (they likely didn't hear), which made me even more angry. I sprinted up to them and offered the same admonishment and added "You're going to get yourselves arrested or, more likely, KILLED!" in my best drill-sergeant boom. Their wide eyes, open mouths and immediate reconfiguration told me that I'd made the proper impression. I rode beside them for a moment (no cars were coming from behind) looking the the lead two in the eyes a few times to make sure they all got the message and had no pussy questions. I then regained my gear and left them to recover, reflect on their error... Oh, and to live another day to go home to their wives and kids. I'm not a man given to gratuitous profanity, especially as directed toward those whom I don't know. These guys, however, were playing with peoples' lives. They needed to get the message right the first time and I wanted it to stick. Hopefully, they've given up riding as a group of Natural Selection ejectees and will seek their proper place among an experienced group with a couple of no-nonsense patróns to teach them the ropes. I sure as hell hope so.