So, on my way to work this morning I encountered some of my least favorite items that I have found while commuting by bicycle. Taken individually, these items are not a day breaker…it’s not as if I see a pot hole and am suddenly struck with the desire to go back to bed. However, this morning I had the rare opportunity to encounter them all in a single trip to work.
Had I been told ahead of time…say, in my driveway while I was clipping in…I might have suggested that I’d prefer to stay home. In fact, I might have suggest that a run of bad luck like I will soon describe might have been cause to begin searching for the Quit Life button. Yet, I remained surprisingly up-beat during my trip. It was as if each new obstacle I encountered was like a new joke.
First, let me say that there are situations that one encounters while commuting via bike that are decidedly bad. These situations are short, traumatic, and generally unpleasant. Then, there are those items that are more insidious in their tarnishing of ones morning ride. I put pot holes in this second category. A pot hole, or series of pot holes, is not really a traumatic event. Sure, they are bumps, and can be rather jolting if unseen. But, generally speaking, they won’t ruin my day. However, they will slowly ruin my ride in another way. They prevent me from looking around and seeing the scenery. I love to take in the world as I ride…even if it is the same road I see every morning. It’s still nice to enjoy a beautiful morning outside. But, once you hit a couple pot holes because you were gazing at the stars, or saying good morning to someone else on the bike, you begin to realize you have to pay closer attention to the road. After a while, you stop looking around all together. Particularly in the winter when the pot holes are worse and have the potential to cause a fall. Thus…pot holes slowly take some of the joy out of my morning ride. Not because I hit them…but, simply, because I have to pay attention to them.
Now, as I was dodging around pot holes this morning I encountered another of my least favorite bike commute items. A garbage truck. Unsightly? Yes. But, necessary to the functioning of a reasonably clean civilization. So, I have no problem with their existence in a general sense. What I find offense about them is two things. First, if I have the massively bad luck to get stuck behind one that is actually picking up trash, I am put in the rather precarious position of needing to pass him. In a car, this is not really an issue. However, on a bike, in the winter, in the dark…this can present some problems. I can pass him…no issue there. However, pulling out in to that left lane with all the other cars who are passing him can certainly cause problems. Forgive me for being a wuss…but, any time I am forced to merge with traffic traveling in excess of 30mph I tend to get a bit nervous. My second reason for disliking the garbage truck? They stink. Pretty simple. Not something you are bothered by when in your car. But, when you are trapped behind one for about a mile…because you can’t get over to pass him…you’ll find that the stench is fairly significant. Nauseatingly so.
Speaking of things that stink…I also managed to pass a skunk on the road today. Not the dead kind…but, the live, striped back, waddling along slowly, don’t get too close or you get sprayed kind. I don’t know about you. But, for me, whenever I happen upon a skunk in the dark, on my bike, I find it to be an exciting experience. First, there is that immediate inclination to steer away and give plenty of room to the little guy. However, on a bike, that means I also need to be weary of cars around me that may just run me over if I make too quick of a route correction. During the winter, the danger is enhanced further by snow/ice that will punish quick course corrections with a sudden trip to the pavement. So, you might imagine how sneaking up on a skunk tends to make my backside pucker.
This morning I also had the misfortune of getting stuck behind a school bus. Now, I will be right up front and say that I don’t dislike school busing in any way. It’s necessary, and generally efficient. So, I’m not saying we should do away with busses. But, for the same reason I can’t get passed that slow moving garbage truck, I also can’t get passed that slow moving school bus. Pulling out in to the faster lane to get around the big yellow road block can be a hair raising experience. What makes the experience even less attractive is the prospect of getting passed by the same bus if they have another stop on the same road ½ mile away. If I get really unlucky, I get to do this sort of a leap-frog drill with a bus for about a mile.
The worst of the morning experiences, by far, though, are mean drivers. I’m not talking bad drivers. Nor, am I speaking about those drivers who cause inconvenience/harm because they are blissfully unaware of the existence of cyclists on the road. No, in this case I am referring to those drivers who are just mean spirited. They are aware of my existence…and, make an effort to eliminate it. Thank you very little. During this morning’s commute, this driver was particularly bad.
As I was descending down a small, but relatively steep hill on a road that had not received any kind of plow/salt attention…I had slowly accelerated to about 25mph and was very cautiously trying to keep myself upright. The road was slick and it was obvious that even the smallest jolt could send me sliding on the ice/pavement/snow. Sadly, this mornings mean driver took that opportunity to pull up next to me, roll down the window, and swear at me. Apparently my non-response was not what he was hoping for…so, he decided to escalate things slightly by inching the car closer to me, then throwing an empty pop bottle out the window at me.
I probably over reacted. An empty pop bottle was going to do me no harm…at that speed, its likely that I wouldn’t have even felt it. Still, when I saw an projectile leave the car window out of the corner of my eye…I didn’t know what it was. So, naturally I hit the brakes and steered to avoid being hit. That harsh change in speed/direction was plenty to cause my front wheel to go out.
Thus, we come to the “slider” portion of today’s discussion. My friends in the Crazy Bastards Cross (www.cbcross.com) group name their crashes. For these heroes, crashing is common place enough to have given names and points to each different type. My crash this morning was a basic slider. Ie, I hit the pavement and slide, with the bike in close proximity, for a while before slowly grinding to a stop. Though my crashing skills are not near those of more experienced riders, I will admit this morning was a good one. I will have a dandy bruise on my left hip to prove it. And, at 25 mph you can slide for a long time on the right type of surface. This morning’s surface was hard packed snow and ice…ideal for a good slide. In fact, I slid for so long that I actually had time to contemplate the length of the slide while I was still in it. At one point I actually began to wonder whether I should push the bike away or pull it closer as I slide. I couldn’t make up my mind which was less likely to cause me harm and eventually decided to leave it alone…and still the slide continued. I eventually hit a section of bare pavement and that brought me to a halt relatively fast. Nonetheless, I definitely set a personal distance record on the slider. I may have set some sort of a city or county record…if such records were kept. Which, of course, they are not.
As stated earlier…I managed to keep a positive outlook through this morning’s ride. Though, upon further reflection, I’m not sure how. I just know I was still smiling when I got to work. I guess that is what really matters. Commuting by bike is enough fun to make even a crappy morning seem nice.
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