April has been a fascinating month for the bridge counter. On days where it is raining or threatening rain, I’ve clocked in at the low-200s with numbers like today’s 230. On days where sun is guaranteed, like the sunny 80-degree days Seattle saw last week, my number skyrockets to the upper 500’s; 550, 560. I have not seen variation like this all year. It seems like many months over the winter I would clock in a short range of 10 numbers or so for many days. April, however, has been all over the place. Just like our weather, my count has risen up and down and all over. Today being the last day before May Bike Everywhere Month and the following June, I wonder what my numbers will be next. I suspect they will double. They may even triple on the sunny warm days. It will be interesting to see.
Today I got to joyfully wave at several courteous drivers. I love it when cars passing me that want to turn right not only use their turn signal, but also slow down so I know I can bike past them going straight without worrying they are going to hit me. Every time I pass these wonderful people I give them a “wavewavewave” with my hand. I hope they know I am saying, “Thank you! You are amazing and I feel more safe because of you!” This morning’s nice gestures made up for last night’s mayhem...
I used my air horn. TWICE! A car turning right jutted out into the intersection at full speed, flooring the gas pedal. Then, for whatever reason, he changed his mind and jolted to a stop, right over the bike lane. Over a dozen of us on bikes braked and squealed and swerved when he blocked the lane. One cyclist could have easily not braked as hard as the guy in front of him causing a cascading domino of crashing bikes. Luckily, this didn’t happen. The pile of bikes had nowhere to go with the car in the way. I honked. The guy in the front of the line pounded on the car’s rear window as he passed. He could have been using the car as a sudden-braking brace, but I think he was trying to alert the driver to what he just did. I would feel angry and violated if a stranger pounded on my car. I am hoping my honk communicated more of an “alert!” message instead of a “f-you!” message.
The second time I honked a car tried to turn right on a no-right-on-red light. I feel bad for drivers turning right in this spot. The cars to the left of them get a green light and go. The bikes and pedestrians to the right of them get a green light and go. In nearly every intersection this means a car turning right can go, too. This intersection is unique that the turning lane has a red light straddled between greens. This guy had his hands gripped on either side of his steering wheel, his brows furrowed tight as he leaned forward over his steering wheel. You could tell he intended to turn. At this point, the piles of cyclists in front of me started yelling, “No turn! No turn! Red light! No turn!” But the guy kept crawling forward. I swerved around him and honked. If I were the one driving, I would have thought I could turn, too. What I don’t understand is when people start passing and hollering that the driver doesn’t look and notice the no turn and red light above. I’ve honked at this intersection a few times. Traffic continued to be high level insane all the way home. I am grateful to have encountered so many thoughtful observant folks in the following morning.