0 comment Friday, September 19, 2014 | admin
I woke up this morning to the +14, feels like -5 temperatures and decided to finally get out the really cold weather stuff. I mean, I had enough gear to climb Everest -- no exposed skin whatsoever. Part of this ensemble was my snowboard helmet and goggles. I'm carrying my bike down the stairs of my apartment building, wondering, "Is this thing designed to withstand a car running over it? My bike helmet is, isn't it?"
But all is well, and I'm cruising down 12th Avenue, actually hitting most of the lights, trying to test out the grip I have through my gigantic snowboard gloves. I'm warm, actually.
Then I'm coming up on the intersection with Sherman Street, where I usually take a right. There's a white Cadillac with gold trim coming the at me, wanting to turn left onto Sherman. The car in front of me turns right on Sherman, and I'm about 30 feet behind them, perfectly visible in my bright yellow rain jacket, which is blocking the wind quite nicely, I might add.
And then the lady in the Cadillac decides she's going to go ahead and turn in front of me. "Yeah, there must be some law that bicycles have to yield to cars, right? What the hell." But I just keep going, turning right, right alongside her, figuring she'll stop. Whoa whoa whoa whoa. I'm barely able to squeeze my brake levers hard enough to keep from ramming into her front quarter panel, and it's close.
She stops. She's very inconvenienced by this, I can tell. I make sure she sees me giving her the death stare through her windshield. I am sure she thinks I'm an idiot, under my snowboard helmet, through my gaiter and snowboard goggles and my big fat gloves and three layers of clothing.
Almost got to test out that snowboard helmet.
But all is well, and I'm cruising down 12th Avenue, actually hitting most of the lights, trying to test out the grip I have through my gigantic snowboard gloves. I'm warm, actually.
Then I'm coming up on the intersection with Sherman Street, where I usually take a right. There's a white Cadillac with gold trim coming the at me, wanting to turn left onto Sherman. The car in front of me turns right on Sherman, and I'm about 30 feet behind them, perfectly visible in my bright yellow rain jacket, which is blocking the wind quite nicely, I might add.
And then the lady in the Cadillac decides she's going to go ahead and turn in front of me. "Yeah, there must be some law that bicycles have to yield to cars, right? What the hell." But I just keep going, turning right, right alongside her, figuring she'll stop. Whoa whoa whoa whoa. I'm barely able to squeeze my brake levers hard enough to keep from ramming into her front quarter panel, and it's close.
She stops. She's very inconvenienced by this, I can tell. I make sure she sees me giving her the death stare through her windshield. I am sure she thinks I'm an idiot, under my snowboard helmet, through my gaiter and snowboard goggles and my big fat gloves and three layers of clothing.
Almost got to test out that snowboard helmet.