0 comment Friday, July 11, 2014 | admin
I'm riding east on 12th Avenue today after riding and drinking coffee and eating donuts with my buddy Robb all morning, and following a silver Honda Civic up 12th. We stop at the light at Washington, and they go, really slowly, and I'm following pretty close behind at first until they step on the gas a little bit. Then the Civic stops at the red light at Clarkson, the next block, and I slowly roll up behind it when I hear a honk from behind me.
I turn around and look, nothing but a brand-new Saturn hatchback with two guys in the front seat and two ladies in the back seat. I turn back around. Another honk. I turn around again to hear the driver saying something unintelligible.
"What's that?" I say to the guy.
"I said, you just about hit that car in front of you and now you're holding me up," he says. I think to myself that it's actually all the red lights that are "holding him up," as here we are, sitting at a red light with car ten feet in front of me. Not sure how much progress he's looking to make. I say nothing.
"Get moving," he says. I'm at first offended that this guy is trying to tell me how to ride a bicycle on a bike route in my city, on Capitol Hill, my neighborhood. But I've been getting pretty good at trying to understand people lately. Just the same, I do a quick assessment: Two guys with two girls to impress in the back seat versus a guy on a bike ... I step off to the side of the street and say, "Go ahead," motioning for him to pass me.
As he's passing by me standing off to the side to let him go and giving him the thumbs-up, he yells, "Get it together."
I'd just like to point out that I was the guy out enjoying a bike ride on a Sunday, not the one throwing a fit at the bicyclist in front of me on a street where there's a stoplight every two blocks. Duly noted, sir, I will do my best to some day get my shit together. I clip into my pedals and start laughing.
He drives three blocks, and stops at the red light at Corona, at which point I pull up right behind him and wait 15 seconds for the light to change, then follow him. He drives one more block, stops at the red light at Downing, and I pull up behind him and we wait 10 seconds for that light to change. All the while, resisting the urge to yell, "Am I holding you up now?"
Then I turn off 12th at Lafayette and ride home.
I turn around and look, nothing but a brand-new Saturn hatchback with two guys in the front seat and two ladies in the back seat. I turn back around. Another honk. I turn around again to hear the driver saying something unintelligible.
"What's that?" I say to the guy.
"I said, you just about hit that car in front of you and now you're holding me up," he says. I think to myself that it's actually all the red lights that are "holding him up," as here we are, sitting at a red light with car ten feet in front of me. Not sure how much progress he's looking to make. I say nothing.
"Get moving," he says. I'm at first offended that this guy is trying to tell me how to ride a bicycle on a bike route in my city, on Capitol Hill, my neighborhood. But I've been getting pretty good at trying to understand people lately. Just the same, I do a quick assessment: Two guys with two girls to impress in the back seat versus a guy on a bike ... I step off to the side of the street and say, "Go ahead," motioning for him to pass me.
As he's passing by me standing off to the side to let him go and giving him the thumbs-up, he yells, "Get it together."
I'd just like to point out that I was the guy out enjoying a bike ride on a Sunday, not the one throwing a fit at the bicyclist in front of me on a street where there's a stoplight every two blocks. Duly noted, sir, I will do my best to some day get my shit together. I clip into my pedals and start laughing.
He drives three blocks, and stops at the red light at Corona, at which point I pull up right behind him and wait 15 seconds for the light to change, then follow him. He drives one more block, stops at the red light at Downing, and I pull up behind him and we wait 10 seconds for that light to change. All the while, resisting the urge to yell, "Am I holding you up now?"
Then I turn off 12th at Lafayette and ride home.
Labels: Perspective
0 comment Wednesday, June 4, 2014 | admin
I don't drive my car very often, but when I do I pay close attention to the bikes around me. I pay attention not only because I don't want to hit them, but because it gives me a completely different vantage and an opportunity to better understand how cars and bikes interact. Today I watched two bicycle/car interactions and they have given me some insight into this tenuous relationship.
The first interaction happen on University, between Speer and Alameda. There I watched a mountain biker zipping down the sidewalk and plow directly into the side of a truck trying to turn right from a side street onto University. The truck immediately stopped to see if the bike rider was okay. The bike rider was fine, but looked furious. I don't know what happened after this point, but judging from the bike riders' flailing arms, puffed chest and yelling, I'd be willing to bet that it wasn't good. I found the biker's righteous indignation to be a little odd considering the fact that he rode into the side of a stationary vehicle.
The next interaction was on Alameda heading toward Lincoln. In the right lane of Alameda was a guy riding a hybrid VERY slowly and VERY close to the line between the two lanes of traffic. He seemed oblivious to the cars around him and the drivers looked angry - In the 30 seconds I was behind this bike I witnessed three cars almost hit him in an attempt to get around him.
What lessons did I learn from watching these interactions? The first is something I've always known: never ride on the sidewalk! Sometimes it is the quickest and easiest way to get somewhere, but there are just so many blind corners and unknowns that make it dangerous. The second lesson is something that has taken me a while to realize; I need to stop riding on super busy streets expecting cars to be okay with it. I realize this statement will not make me popular amongst my cycling brethren, but it is a sad reality. Yes, I have a right to ride on a busy street and it is wrong for a car to put my life in danger, but this is just a fight I don't feel like fighting anymore. Whenever possible I will be riding a safer route, even if it means adding a few minutes to my commute.
The first interaction happen on University, between Speer and Alameda. There I watched a mountain biker zipping down the sidewalk and plow directly into the side of a truck trying to turn right from a side street onto University. The truck immediately stopped to see if the bike rider was okay. The bike rider was fine, but looked furious. I don't know what happened after this point, but judging from the bike riders' flailing arms, puffed chest and yelling, I'd be willing to bet that it wasn't good. I found the biker's righteous indignation to be a little odd considering the fact that he rode into the side of a stationary vehicle.
The next interaction was on Alameda heading toward Lincoln. In the right lane of Alameda was a guy riding a hybrid VERY slowly and VERY close to the line between the two lanes of traffic. He seemed oblivious to the cars around him and the drivers looked angry - In the 30 seconds I was behind this bike I witnessed three cars almost hit him in an attempt to get around him.
What lessons did I learn from watching these interactions? The first is something I've always known: never ride on the sidewalk! Sometimes it is the quickest and easiest way to get somewhere, but there are just so many blind corners and unknowns that make it dangerous. The second lesson is something that has taken me a while to realize; I need to stop riding on super busy streets expecting cars to be okay with it. I realize this statement will not make me popular amongst my cycling brethren, but it is a sad reality. Yes, I have a right to ride on a busy street and it is wrong for a car to put my life in danger, but this is just a fight I don't feel like fighting anymore. Whenever possible I will be riding a safer route, even if it means adding a few minutes to my commute.
Labels: Perspective