I recall riding in the late fall on a bikepath on Cape Cod. It was virtually deserted, but I eventually did catch up with a family of five, walking, completely blocking the path. Oh yeah, and the obligatory dog on a long chain stretched across the path. Had to come to a complete stop to let them clear. As I started off again, I turned slightly, looked straight at "dad", and just SPIT on the path in front of them. Sort of like marking territory. Allowed me to vent a little anger without blurting out obscenities.