In Which our Bike Bingo Card is Punched
Jun. 5th, 2012 09:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serindeIn conjunction with yesterday's determinations, I got up this morning (not quite when the alarm went off, thank you Air Raid Siren Cat going off every hour, but without too much lolling). I did not make coffee, nor yet sit at the computer; I tidied a little, cleaned the cat box, washed dishes, and then started morning procedures. My intent was to leave on the bike about 7:30, arrive c. 8:15, and have a leisurely period to cool down, change, drink coffee, read internets, and face the day.
First check: Fashion crisis and dithering about what to wear today.
Second check: stupid sticking bike room lock, plus then realizing I left my helmet upstairs. grump grump
I ended up leaving about five past eight, and--well, thought I had arrived at 8:35, which made me feel like quite a studmuffin, as I'd lost time in the confusing braid of Riverside Drive one-way splits and ended up walking my bike across Sakura Park, but then realized that the Sulz Tower clock is ten minutes slow. -_- So still about a 40-minute trip all told; with the backing and forthing, it was probably an hour since the time the coffee went into the thermal cup, and it was tepid. FAIL! I will have to investigate better technology there.
So that's all the minor stuff. A more significant thing is that I have for the first time encountered a standard bike opponent: Belligerent SMIDSY. I was eastbound on 125th, under the West Side Highway overpass; it is a four-way stop where the off-ramp from the highway comes down to street level. I arrived at the stop sign simultaneously or a fraction before a large police truck thing. The cop driver--who is to my right, so would have the right-of-way--looks both ways like a good lad, sees me, sees my stoppedness, and drives through. I push off and enter the intersection. Church van who had been behind the cop also starts to go. I look at him--I am now in the center of the intersection and lined up with his hood. He is not stopping. I lock eyes with him, fling out my arm in an arresting gesture, and yell "HEY!!" Finally he stops. I continue through the intersection and pull up to the next stop sign, about 30' away. He turns right to follow, pulls up next to me at the stop sign, yells something I can't make out, and then peels off down 125th St. I turn right and start walking my bike up the Hill Of Doom, as is my custom.
This sort of blurred out the incident at the start of my ride, when I had been coming up Dyckman St. to get on the greenway; there is no bike lane there, so I took my lane, per counsel of wiser heads, and plugged away at my best pace (which wasn't awesome since it's an uphill with lots of stops). A school bus (!!!) peeled around me, cutting it rather fine, and then up to the highway onramp (almost running the last stop sign, too).
I should probably not find it surprising that the people who should be driving with the most care are the ones being the least mindful.
First check: Fashion crisis and dithering about what to wear today.
Second check: stupid sticking bike room lock, plus then realizing I left my helmet upstairs. grump grump
I ended up leaving about five past eight, and--well, thought I had arrived at 8:35, which made me feel like quite a studmuffin, as I'd lost time in the confusing braid of Riverside Drive one-way splits and ended up walking my bike across Sakura Park, but then realized that the Sulz Tower clock is ten minutes slow. -_- So still about a 40-minute trip all told; with the backing and forthing, it was probably an hour since the time the coffee went into the thermal cup, and it was tepid. FAIL! I will have to investigate better technology there.
So that's all the minor stuff. A more significant thing is that I have for the first time encountered a standard bike opponent: Belligerent SMIDSY. I was eastbound on 125th, under the West Side Highway overpass; it is a four-way stop where the off-ramp from the highway comes down to street level. I arrived at the stop sign simultaneously or a fraction before a large police truck thing. The cop driver--who is to my right, so would have the right-of-way--looks both ways like a good lad, sees me, sees my stoppedness, and drives through. I push off and enter the intersection. Church van who had been behind the cop also starts to go. I look at him--I am now in the center of the intersection and lined up with his hood. He is not stopping. I lock eyes with him, fling out my arm in an arresting gesture, and yell "HEY!!" Finally he stops. I continue through the intersection and pull up to the next stop sign, about 30' away. He turns right to follow, pulls up next to me at the stop sign, yells something I can't make out, and then peels off down 125th St. I turn right and start walking my bike up the Hill Of Doom, as is my custom.
This sort of blurred out the incident at the start of my ride, when I had been coming up Dyckman St. to get on the greenway; there is no bike lane there, so I took my lane, per counsel of wiser heads, and plugged away at my best pace (which wasn't awesome since it's an uphill with lots of stops). A school bus (!!!) peeled around me, cutting it rather fine, and then up to the highway onramp (almost running the last stop sign, too).
I should probably not find it surprising that the people who should be driving with the most care are the ones being the least mindful.
