Last Saturday afternoon, two women in their late 20s, both decked out in brightly colored professional-style biking gear, bounced into the Starbucks in Leschi to grab espresso after a ride. The pair were chatting about a bizarre sign they'd seen a block away, of a recumbent bike logo with the phrase "No Tolerance" stenciled above it.

On their way out of the coffee shop, the women saw a second anti-biker sign, this one strapped onto a utility pole in front of Starbucks. "No Stupid Cycling Attire," read the red-and-white sign, above a ridiculous silhouette of two bikers fucking. "Oh, my god," one of the women said, seriously offended.

It was exactly the reaction the two guys who hung the sign had hoped for. The night before, they'd covertly hung six of their painted plywood fake street signs--which resembled legit "No Parking" notices--throughout the neighborhood. Now, staking out the scene from a sidewalk Starbucks table, they'd been waiting four hours for one of the "weekend warrior" bikers--folks who flock to Lake Washington Boulevard for group rides--to notice their guerrilla fuck you. The one who made the signs--he wished to remain anonymous, citing the dubious legality of faking street signs--says he's been hanging them occasionally throughout the summer, with the help of his wife or friends. "People would stop and get out and either rip them down or steal them," he says. He hung one of his signs as artwork inside a friend's coffee shop in Ballard, not far from the Burke Gilman Trail. The shop owner told him angry customers demanded to know who the artist was (the sarcastic pieces are unsigned) so they could give him a piece of their mind. "It's just art," the designer laughs. "If you take it real seriously, you just don't get it."

These guys aren't completely anti-bike. In fact, they're all for biking as transportation, and they don't mind most recreational bikers. Their animosity is reserved for the Lance Armstrong set: wannabes who bike in large groups along a narrow, windy city road like Lake Washington Boulevard, especially while wearing head-to-toe professional-style gear (the guys are fond of imitating the clacking of specialized bike shoes on the sidewalk). "It has become really insane. They have a tendency to double up," and take up the street, says the sign designer, who lives in nearby Seward Park. Crowds of bikers slow down traffic, and cars veer into the oncoming lane to go around them. "It's pure mayhem for drivers." The guy with him at Starbucks says he has even seen a bicyclist get into a fight with a convertible driver. "They were near fisticuffs," he says.

As far as the police are concerned, the bikers and drivers along Lake Washington haven't raised any red flags. But George Gibbs, owner of Leschi's Il Vecchio bike shop, says vehicle and bike traffic has increased over the years, which "starts to brew conflict." Commuting to his shop on bike, he has problems with car traffic. But he acknowledges that bikers often ride in clumps, not two abreast per the law. "When you have a fair amount of vehicle traffic, why do that?" Gibbs says.

Back at Starbucks, a few minutes after the women gasped at the sign, a cop pulled up and yanked it down--the guys assume the women called the police. Within the hour, five out of the six signs disappeared, presumably torn down by the officer or bikers. Clearly, once the signs were noticed, they didn't go over well in the otherwise bike-friendly neighborhood.

amy@thestranger.com