The guilty culprit is in a late model black or dark blue Ford truck with one on those aero coffin-like storage bins on the left side of his tonneau bed and a mountain bike on the other.

Okay, so I'm on 285 headed east and I catch up with 4 cruisers all riding two up just past the Morrison exit. Traffic speeds up a bit and the four split up with three in the right lane (plus me) and one stays in the left lane. We're doing probably 73 and we're staggered in the right lane as we normally would be with me hanging back a bit since I'm not part of their group. All of a sudden the aforementioned douchbag in the truck is barreling doen the left lane, shoots past me and the others in the right lane and the other bike in the left lane. The poor SOB in the left lane has the jersey barriers to his left and a truck on his right in his lane. Luckily he didn't panic and came out okay. I was so pissed I could see red. Douchebag is too polite a term for this, well, douchbag.