Last week a 72-year-old Georgia man, Jerry Wayne Ross, while in a no-passing zone behind a group of cyclists for two minutes felt justified in mowing them down. The spine of one of the cyclists is fractured. We are in an era of pronounced hostility toward bicyclists. Bike Rage, Veloism, and Anti-bike-ism, are terms used to describe prejudice, discrimination, or agression aimed at cyclists as a group, or cycling as an activity. It is more prevalent than ever and it is ridiculous.
When Jerry Wayne Ross dies in poverty and obscurity, none of the tough talking Twitter crowd will be there for him. (Photo: fair use.)
In his mug shot Ross is grinning, like he accomplished a life-long dream.
So far he faces six charges, including hit-and-run, aggressive driving, and failing to maintain a safe distance from a bicycle. What about attempted murder? And I am sure that Ross will have the shit sued out of him. His golden years will be filled with attorneys, fees, court appearances, and hopefully prison.
It is tough to pin down terminology for this very modern phenomenon. And it can be confusing. Cyclophobia is an irrational fear of bikes but also encompasses the widespread anti-biking sentiment which is deeply ingrained in social biases and rooted in car-centric infrastructure. It views cars as the rightful users of the roads, labeling cyclists as obstacles or violators of traffic law. It manifests as opposition to bike lanes, social media vitriol, and threatening behavior towards cyclists. People are so passionate about their hatred of bikers that they obsess over it and even fantasize about murdering cyclists.
When behind the wheel of an automobile, people become cocooned and anti-social with anyone and everything becoming an obstacle. With the recent decades of propaganda, people on bikes become dehumanized. Motorists have hatred toward other motorists, but propaganda normalizes hostility towards bikes.
The video of Jerry Ross driving into the bikers has resulted in comments like, “Not all heroes wear capes.”
“Those douchebag cyclists should be strung up.”
“I hope they can never bicycle again.”
“Does the driver have a Go Fund Me page?”
“They are the LeBron James of bicyclers.”
The comments on Twitter and Instagram are vicious and disgusting. It’s all funny until someone you love gets hurt. What if your husband or son was run down by an unapologetic rageaholic?
My bicycle is made particularly well and I have had the same bicycle since 1999.
Randall Davis develops such small slivers of land that for two years he had a crane blocking two lanes of San Felipe to build London House. Yet I never heard anyone calling for him to be maimed or lynched. Day after day, people waited for their turn to pass. The Derrick Hotel blocks three lanes of traffic on Westheimer at 610, the busiest interchange in Houston. Yet I haven’t heard any idiots obsessing over the delays, or fantasized about killing the construction workers. The same people who can’t wait two minutes to safely pass a biker will wait in traffic for years behind an orange cone.
Every 20 minutes, a freight train interrupts Houston’s major arteries of traffic, from Richmond, Westheimer, and San Felipe to Shepherd and Durham. Trains first arrived in Houston in the 1850s. So in 175-years, city government still hasn’t come up with a way to divert or mitigate the disruption of commuters and emergency services. But let’s lose our fucking minds if we slow down for a cyclist.
Getting behind a Lexus driver is far worse than bicycles. At least there are inherent reasons why bikes slow traffic.
Imagine a vehicular homicide in New Orleans if a motorist is caught behind a Second Line. It’s a ludicrous consideration. But old Jerry Wayne Ross drove through the North Georgia Cycling Association.
Unlike a 3,000 pound vehicle, a bicycle is not a deadly weapon.
These low IQ people would go to pieces if they ever visited Europe. With a population of 900,000 and an estimated 900,000 bikes, there is a sea of bicycles in Amsterdam.
I am a biker; I bike for enjoyment and exercise. My bicycle is made particularly well and I have had the same bicycle since 1999. It is a Hybrid Bicycle, blending road bike speed with mountain bike durability, featuring flat handlebars and upright geometry for versatile, comfortable riding on pavement and light trails. I’ve carried my bike on the back of my car from Florida to Utah, and very to the edge of the continent, Galveston. I take great care of it and have it rebuilt every five or six years.
I am aware of how dangerous the streets can be for cyclists. Dedicated bike lanes are safe but they tend to end abruptly, or empty into a traffic quagmire. Bike lanes are often blocked by cars, trash bins, and debris such as broken glass or lawn trimmings.
Bike trails are safe and scenic but getting there is tough, and the trails usually don’t connect to anything. Sidewalks are even worse. Houstonians will drive a block; no one walks. Anyone who tries to walk a block realizes that the sidewalks are fraught with roots, cracks, gaps, pipes, illegally parked cars, construction, and more surprises. Besides, in Houston it is illegal to ride a bike on the sidewalk in a business district.
A Ghost Bike was installed in Mark Brooker’s honor at Oxford and 38th in Houston’s Independence Heights.
I’ve had more near misses than anyone would believe, especially trying to cross Allen Parkway to access the bike trails along Buffalo Bayou. I write to my city council representative about better designation of the pedestrian crossing at that signal which is not observed regularly. I appealed to Abbie Kamin’s office begging for attention to this crosswalk. Ms. Kamin’s office refers my requests to 311 who once had the fifteen-inch white stripe repainted. Someone will be killed there and it might be me. These are my roads too.
Ghost Bikes are memorials for bicyclists who are killed on the street. We have all seen them—the installation is assembled with a bike painted white, chained to a street sign at the site of the accident, often accompanied by a small plaque and flowers. They memorialize a loved one and act as a reminder to watch for cyclists and support cyclists’ rights of safe passage.
Ghost Bikes started in St. Louis in 2003 and have taken off worldwide. And though there is a group in each major city to assist in erecting this type of remembrance, it is said that anyone can create a memorial without permission to do so, which makes each unique.
People in Montrose see the Ghost Bike at Westheimer and Dunlavy. Amidst the groovy boutiques and eateries it is hard to miss the memorial for Leigh Boone who was crushed by a ladder truck in 2009 when it collided with another fire engine while responding to an alarm. Thought to be the second Ghost Bike in Houston, Leigh’s was the first to garner such attention because of the widely reported tragedy and high visibility area.
A well-known Ghost Bike exists on Waugh Drive just south of West Gray. In December 2013, Chelsea Norman was riding home from work at Whole Foods when she was hit by Margaret Mayer who fled the scene, leaving Chelsea to die on the side of the road. The manhunt for the killer was headline news for weeks. Chelsea’s friends and family keep the bike decorated with flowers and often have solar powered lights on the sidewalk. There is now a dedicated bike lane on that street.
In 2020, my friend Mark Brooker was killed at Oxford and 38th in Houston’s Independence Heights. Mark was a all-around good guy and a triathlete who loved travel and being with friends. Later that year, a Ghost Bike was installed in in his honor. I visited Mark’s Ghost Bike again the other day–it’s sad, I understand that it was a particularly disturbing accident scene. It’s a junky part of the Heights too.
I have had the same bicycle since 1999. I’d carried my bike on the back of my car from Florida to Utah. (Photo: Natchez, Mississippi, 2025.)
A map of Ghost Bikes can be found at Houston Ghost Bikes. I have inserted a link below. Further, a section of the Critical Mass Houston website is devoted to Ghost Bike memorials.
No other organization in Houston makes people as crazy as Critical Mass. Hundreds of bikers assemble downtown one day a month and ride through the city streets with music and lights. It’s like a big bicycle parade. While I’ve never participated, I consider it good harmless fun. But the average Houstonian loses their minds over this. Critical Mass has gone down my street and I’ve waited for them to pass while on my way to dinner. Twice during intermission at Houston Ballet, they’ve ridden through the Wortham with the cocktailing ballet patrons stepping out to watch and cheer. The atmosphere is electric.
Stop it with the bike rage already. Luckily Jerry Wayne Ross didn’t kill anyone. Cherokee County will mete out justice and he’ll probably go broke from lawyers and lawsuits. And when he dies in poverty and obscurity, none of the tough talking Twitter crowd will be there for him. I hope his fifteen minutes of fame and Twitter accolades is worth it.
Houston has made great advances in promoting bicycle commuters as the whole world has become more aware of conservation and health. Accidents will inevitably happen—and it shouldn’t take a Ghost Bike to remind us all to be more careful while sharing the road.