Thread: Road Rage/Harassment - No Point Complaining

Well , I don't know what's happening in WA, but in Qld , police patrol a lot on foot in public areas, or by pushbike / motorcycles/ small suv's and on horseback and they greet and chat with the public and allow photoshoots with them in on and around their various modes of transport.

Originally Posted by Fatso

We no longer have what used to be a " Police Force " , instead what we now have is a Response Force . When was the last time anyone saw Police patrolling the streets like they used to do in Sydney when i was a young bloke , and had to explain to a Cop Like " Bumper Farrell " what you were doing hanging around the local Milk Bar on a Friday night .

I see police rarely in the burbs here. A lot more in the city. The local council paid about $15k each for two police push bikes. I saw them just once I could not see why my push bike was not almost the same yet cost well under $1K

Most police work very hard and deal with things most of us do not want to see. Most people are not road rage thugs. The few that are stand out as they are ******* plus

Originally Posted by DoubleChevron

I'm running THEM down, not their vehicle. I rather run over crazed ice junkees that play chicken with there most likely stolen vehicle

That is not what you said in your earlier post. You said


"Demolition derby it is"


So as I said, 2 moron road ragers isnt going to make the situation better.
Add ANOTHER moron into the OP thread, I'm coming along in the other direction in my Perentie, all I see is someone overtaking on the wrong side of the road, flashing his lights at me. I think he is just an impatient arsehole, so I say no he can slow down and pull back in, I'm not moving. Worse, maybe I have nowhere to move over, 2 vehicles have a head on, its likely the OP and his family get out of the crash ok (being in a Disco 4), I on the other hand being in my old Perentie tractor get seriously injured or I'm killed. Worse again I have my 12 yo niece in the Perentie with me, she gets injured or killed.


The original moron in the ute drives off (because he is a scumbag).
In hindsight you think oh maybe I should have just pulled over, slowed down, driven to a Police station. A lot of comfort that will do for the other defiantly innocent party you injure or kill, regardless of who started it.


Your broad brush about the Police is bull****.

Originally Posted by Fatso

We no longer have what used to be a " Police Force " , instead what we now have is a Response Force .

no, we have revenue raisers. think domestic violence, no chance of a fine, no police interest.

One incident of road rage I will never forget. For the end humour not the actual danger. Road rage can be confined to one car...

Traveling slowly a few years ago on a gravel back road in far-flung rural NZ on my way to a favourite fly fishing spot. A wide sweeping left hand curve in the road with poplar trees lining it. I see a large dust plume between trees at the far end of the curve traveling far too fast for the state of the road so i slowed right down and pulled into the inside of the curve as far as I could across a shallow ditch as it is my side of the road and allowed plenty of road for the idiot to hoon past on the outside (his side).

The driver of the car coming was cutting the curve at speed. He saw me just in time and slammed the brakes on (bad move) and tried to go to the outside of the road against the camber of the road while skidding (second bad move). He ended up sliding sideways towards the front of the stationary 110 and my bull bars and old Thomas winch.

Once the dust cleared... I could see what had happened. He and his wife and kids came to a stop sideways, with tail in the shallow roadside ditch and nose pointing out to the outside of the curve. He was close enough for us to eyeball each other. He and his family was left looking directly into my winch and grill and bull bar.

I heard a child crying.

Then the road rage hit him with all the fury an enraged and embarrassed wife could unleash with whatever was at hand. I saw maps flying. I saw a hairbrush launch in a series rapid direct-hit impacts. I saw double clinched fists flaying at him. His sunglasses went somewhere. His arms were up in defence. I heard a foreign language in quick staccato. I don't think i needed to know the words to know the intent. I saw a very subdued driver counting his lucky stars now dancing around his head. Road rage. Pure, unadulterated. Hell hath no fury like a woman scared by husbands stupid driving.

I asked if all was OK and got a shrug and a sorry. She was still yelling at him in the background. I made sure they were going to be able to get out of their situation. I slowly reversed back a bit, drove around their front, and went fishing...

One that will stay with me occurred north of Brissie at the Deagon deviation. The vehicle in front of me pulled out into a 90 kph lane at about 30 kph, straight in front of oncoming traffic. The 1st oncoming car had to take serious and somewhat impressive, evasive action. The 2nd car in line had to swerve as well and ended up at an angle, in front of the now stationary, offending vehicle, of which I was stuck behind.
The male driver of the 2nd vehicle got out of his vehicle and approached the offending vehicle, all the while gesticulating wildly.
The offenders car door opened and slowly extricating themselves from the vehicle, appeared 6'4'' and 120 kilos of the purest form of feminist horror I have ever seen.
The 'Road Rage' bloke did a quick bow and scrape, shrugged his shoulders, gave me a bit of a grin when he saw me laughing, retreated to his car and drove off.

Hi,
Rage?
Maybe.
I put it down to self important arrogance.

Macquarie St, Hobart. One way, multi-lane, slight down hill.

Me? Left lane, far enough out to avoid doors from parked cars, cycling at near traffic speed with 3 intersections before I turn left.

She? Small car, behind me, honking to get past.

We pass first green light, no traffic in front or middle lane.
Beep beep beep. I wave her past in the free middle lane.
Beep beep beep.
I move to the middle lane, she accelerates past on my left.
Red light ahead, old farm truck stopped in left lane.
I slow to wait at red light.
She, with new found freedom from pesky cyclists, maintains velocity.
Did I mention the old Bedford, flat tray, hungry boards made from wired together farm gates, number plate askew beside a dusty cracked brake light stopped up ahead?

No?

Perhaps that is why she buried her car to the windshield under the cow poo covered tray of said trusty old Bedford so hard it squashed her front tyres to the rim.

The light changed to green and the next one shortly afterward, so returning to a now free left lane I exited left at the third light.

Cheers