Fremont Bridge Bike Counter

Photo from Puget Sound Business Journal

I try to note my count every time I pass the bike counter on the Fremont Bridge. It occurred to me that you, dear reader, might not know what this is all about. The summer after I moved to Seattle, grant money supported the installation of this counter that is said to resemble counters in Copenhagen. The counter is a pillar that electronically counts every bike that passes via ground sensor. It was installed on one of the most, if not the most, bicycle traveled bridge in all of Seattle. The little pillar has been counting cyclists ever since. I am not sure how accurate it is, if it counts strollers and power chairs that sort of thing. Also, several cyclists ignore the narrow bike and pedestrian passage for the road, or bike on the wrong side of the bridge, not being counted. These are small numbers compared to those who cross the counter, so I expect it to be mostly accurate. Being that I love data, I get a kick out of this counter every time I cause the number to tick. It fascinates me how the numbers triple, quadruple, every May during bike month, only to drop back down to regular numbers in June, even if the weather is still good. It also fascinates me how, at any given time I ride, and am within 50 (and usually less) counts of where I was the day before. This tells me that most cyclists in the city are commuters. 

Chocolate skunks in jeans

That distinctive ripe, pungent smell of skunk filled my nostrils while riding down Phinney. It’s not often one gets the opportunity to “experience” the odors of wildlife, even roadkill, in the city. While repugnant, I still enjoyed the experience. At any rate, the nostrils cleared nicely by the time I got to Fremont and I can only assume I was treated by the hard-working chocolatiers at Theo Chocolate brewing up a fresh batch of their rich, bitter chocolate. The intoxicating scent covers several blocks of Fremont. I usually only smell it in the late evening, so this morning batch came as a welcome treat.

After looking at so many riders today, I announce today the day of biking in jeans. I saw at least 6 jeans-clad men. I still say biking in jeans is just OK. Biking in jeans in the rain is miserable.

I also announce today the day for other cyclists to speed past me with all they’ve got, even running red lights where they could, only for me to meet up with them again at a traffic light a few blocks later. I shaved a good 15 minutes off my commute time learning the light patterns, learning when it’s a good time to push the pedals and beat the lights, and when it’s better to save your lungs for the next block.

Fremont bike count: 16

Confusing day

The light on Fremont at 85th responds to a sensor. For the past year the sensor has been working quickly and reliably. When I approached the intersection and saw a car and a bike waiting and the light not already changing, I knew something was wrong. I sat and watched the pedestrian crosswalk cycle through- this is how you know the sensor is not triggered. By this time, a trail of cars and bikes wait behind us. I see that the car is in the cross walk, far ahead of the sensor. I see that the bike is near the bike sensor, but not on it. He looks agitated, like he expected to go already. I walk up to him, and tell him to put his bike over the sensor, pointing. He looks at me, confused, but follows. I want to explain to him that the sensor must be triggered in order for the light to change, but the light changes as soon as he puts his bike on the sensor, and I, having grown impatient, ride off instead. I feel bad. Does this guy understand how the sensors work? What a great opportunity to help someone learn, except I let my impatience get the better of me.

Several miles later, a short school bus stopped in the middle of the road. Even though I am in a bike lane, a stopped vehicle is cause for alarm. Should I stop too, or should I go? A stopped school bus usually means we stop too. But, I’d never seen a school bus at this time before. What was it doing? Was it “in operation”? There was a crosswalk ahead of the bus, but I could see no people at it. If the bus was letting people off, I should stop. But, why not use the bus stop? And where would the people be going? There were no schools or retirement or care homes nearby. An older couple was walking on the sidewalk, but they weren’t particularly close to the bus or the crosswalk. Even so, there are tons of “connector” vans around town that pick up elderly and disabled folk. I regularly see at least one of them at the retirement homes I ride by. If the bus was turning, then I should go. The problem with me stopping for a turning vehicle that’s already stopped, is I run the risk of the “Seattle standoff”; I wait for them, they wait for me. No one moves. It had no turn signal on. Perhaps it was letting an oncoming car turn ahead of him? I saw none. Utterly confused as to why the bus stopped in the middle of the street, I decided to proceed.

A few blocks later, the bus passes me and stops in front of a crosswalk. Again, no cars, no people. Not even an intersection or bus stop this time. And, as the bus just passed me, I am sure there is nothing in the road causing the bus to stop. I wonder, do school buses have to stop at every crosswalk like they have to stop at all railroad tracks? I am not sure. If that’s the case, I feel bad for the bus driver, since there are numerous crosswalks on this road that rarely get used. I pass confidently this time. Just as I am passing, the doors open and the driver loudly yells out at me “MHRSHGHROGHTSOFOPPTOOO!” After years of biking, I can say that drivers do not know how poorly sound travels from a car. From the last bit, I decide she was telling me to “STOP TOO!” Which means I made the wrong choice. I feel bad now. I want to be the example; the cyclist who does things the correct way. After I pass, the doors close and the bus proceeds again. It appears she stopped just to yell at me. I need to check a rule book somewhere. It appears that every time a school bus stops I have to stop too (makes sense). It also appears that school buses have to stop at every crosswalk. This is where I am confused. There are crosswalks at nearly every intersection, but I am sure they don’t have to stop at intersections with green lights. If anybody has any answers, please comment below.

Fremont Bridge count: 197

Haven't you always wanted a monkey?

picture from http://seattle.findwell.com/event/holiday-monkey-lights/

For several blocks, 200 LED-lit monkeys dazzle the streets of Greenwood and Phinney neighborhoods. I remember seeing them around Christmas time last year, and didn’t think anything of them this year until the question was asked…”why?” I didn’t really think about it, but nearly every business, and even some apartments windows display these cheerful dancing monkeys. The monkeys wear tutus in front of the dance studio, ride bikes at the bike shop, eat in front of the grocery store, and so on.

It’s really neat. I guess there isn’t a particular reason they are monkeys, just that they are cool. The monkeywood website says that they complement the zoo’s holiday light display. Considering I got to see the Wildlights last night, this is very fitting. Making the monkeys even more fitting, I live in the Greenwood neighborhood and ride with a MonkeyLight on my bike (like, whoa dude. We'll be syncing the lights to Pink Floyd songs next). The monkeys have a secret (or not so secret) goal of driving sales at the small local business that dominate these neighborhoods. For instance, on Wednesday all the businesses with red monkeys in the window have a certain sale. There is even a scavenger hunt.

Here is a video of the monkeys being made from http://www.monkeywood.org/:

Today’s ride brought on another ice cream headache, even though I dressed a little too warmly. I thought cheerfully of the monkeys for most of my ride. Downtown there is a stretch of flat road with timed lights where I can keep up with the speed limit. This is important as there are often few enough cars in the lane that I need to keep up. I can only do it because shortly after the road becomes congested with traffic and I can catch my breath. Today an angry driver made an illegal lane change to speed past me. I guess he couldn’t handle the thought of driving behind a bike, even though I was going the same pace as any car. I met up with him again just blocks later when the road congested. I shake my head at this silliness. Why do people feel the need to be so angry. Why do I let this get me angry? Luckily, I will soon forget all about the drivers and remember only the cute monkeys.

Fremont Bridge count: 198

Honking constantly won't make you feel better

About once a month during rush hour downtown, someone driving behind me honks steadily. They don't just honk once, but they tap the horn again and again. Honk....Honk...Honk....Honk. This goes on for several blocks. When they get to a spot where they can pass me, they do so with one long honnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnk all the way until they get in front of me. Traffic only gets lite enough for cars to pass north of Pike, so they could be honking for several blocks. While trying to stay focused on the road, I ponder what's going on in the driver's mind. The first time this happened, I worried they were trying to alert me to something- my bag is open, my keys are dangling, my underwear are on outside of my pants. But no, this is never the case. It could be they hate all cyclists and spend their time honking at every one in their path. That seems unlikely. I conclude they must disagree with the legality of my behavior somehow. Most recently, rain fell with a heaviness unusual to the northwest. It was the sort of rain that completely saturated my pants and shoes before I even got across the street to start my commute. Needless to say, concern for my safety dominated my every decision. I understand that this could conflict with rush hour drivers, who main concern is to get home as quickly as possible. I rode in the center of the second lane out of four. IT couldn't be that I was riding slower than cars drive, because in rush hour I am just behind the car in front of me. Maybe they were angry because I wasn't riding in the lane with the designated "sharrows" on it. Problem is, that is the far left lane, which for 7 blocks is completely backed up with cars wanting to turn left at every block and having to wait for pedestrians to cross. It could be that I wasn't behaving like most cyclists behave downtown. Most cyclists, ride on the line between lanes. I've heard this called "white lining" and "midlining". It is a fast way for cyclists to pass cars. The biggest problem with that behavior is that it isn't safe. No one can predict what others are going to do. I will share a lane with a car, but only if all cars I'd pass are stopped at a red light and my and their next moves are predictable, or my lane becomes a turn-only lane and don't want to turn and can't keep up the pace with the cars in the next lane. Needless to say, while I am getting used to the honking, it is still aggravating to listen to when you are trying to concentrate on being safe.

Fremont Bridge count: 200

People, people everywhere

I saw so many other cyclists out there with me this morning. All it takes is a break in the weather and the numbers triple, quadruple, and then some. It’s still dark, cold, early, and raining. The record-breaking flood-inducing rains finally subsided, but the weather certainly isn’t ideal. I wonder what summer will look like. How congested will the bike lanes be when the weather is good and the sun is out? I didn’t start my rush-hour commute until the tail end of summer this year, so I don’t really know what I am in for. I grew up in a small town and lived in extremely rural areas for many years as an adult. The number of people bustling about in the downtown of a major American city can overwhelm. I tire from the number of people who gasp at my willingness to confront THE WEATHER on my bike. No one seems impressed by their own willingness to confront PEOPLE on the bus. PEOPLE spread disease. PEOPLE cause me great sadness, especially in the city where the full spectrum of human suffering is right out there, visible for us to absorb. Sure, I’d rather ride in good weather. But I’ll take dealing with the weather over people any day!

Familiar faces, familiar places

I am beginning to recognize the regular riders on my new commute. I only recognize the more distinctive riders. There’s “orange rafting bag” that I mentioned earlier. I also see “lady with embroidered jacket and light up traffic vest”. She and I share the same commute for at least 6 miles. I also see “tall sprinting guy with flappy green jacket”, “2 panniers and swift industries saddle bag”, “lady on cruiser who loves purple”, “tiny speed demon in tights” and “sprinting guy all in black”. There are more that I can’t think of right now.

I don’t see them all every day, but it is impressive the regularity that I see so many. Of course, I wouldn’t recognize any of them at all if they changed outfits or bikes. I assume to them I am “orange handlebars and monkey light.” It makes me wonder how many of the same cars we see every day, driving around. It’s harder for cars to look distinctive, so I may very well see the same 50 cars every day and not know it. One advantage to recognition I have on a bike, however, is that cyclists go a variety of different speeds. The guy going 10 miles an hour will be passed by everyone going 20 miles an hour even if their start times vary by minutes every day. Also, traffic lights are great equalizers. Fast people and slow people and people who left the same location minutes apart all bunch up at the same traffic light. It is on a stretch of 3 heavily congested traffic lights that I see most of the people I recognize. In a car, you may drive the same route at the same time as someone else, but if they are 5 cars ahead of you may never see them. These are the things I think about in those moments of boredom waiting for lights to change.

Rain, Rain

This picture captures the experience of everyone bike commuting in Seattle today. That is all.

Attack of the killer shower head! And other commuter foibles...

After my quiet, cold, rainy, dark and (oops!) spacey ride into work, I turned on the shower in the locker room like I do every morning. I follow a routine, where I turn on the water before I undress so the temperature gets warm by the rime I am ready. Much to my surprise, someone wedged the hanging shower head into the ADA bar such that water sprayed directly out of the shower stall. Water showered all over me, my pile of clean clothes, the rack of towels, chairs, shoes and floor. I woke up quickly, pulling everything away from the stream and peeling my own clothes off to minimize soaking them when I turned off the spigot. I don’t have a decent place to dry of my rainy day outerwear much less my inner layers! Luckily, I managed the whole situation with minimal damage and everything turned out well. Expect the floor. The entire floor of the small room looked like it had flooded. I will now check the showerhead every morning!

Bridge bike count: 125

Bike parking at work

The US Green Building Council LEED certification requires some sort of bike parking and shower space for regular users in all LEED-certified buildings. Since the option for bike commuting was a condition of employment for me, I can thank this certification for the reason I work where I do. 

A parking garage takes up the lower level of the building I work in. When I first started working here, I had the option to park in the parking garage, but all cyclists had to lock up at a bar next to the handicapped parking spots, right next to the motorcycles. I loved the speediness of this option when no one was around. But most of the time, I'd be trying to lock my bike on a over-full bar while people in wheelchairs and motorcycles had to navigate around my fumbling. I don't like having to adjust another person's bike just to get mine to lock, so I cheered for joy when I found out construction started on a portion of the garage just to commuting staff. The result, seen above, allows for nearly all commuters to have a caged, locked space to park. I ended up paying more money than I felt comfortable loosing to a thief for my commuter, so I welcomed the added security. The cage fills up every May during Bike Month, but sits mostly empty the rest of the year. I have a few co-workers far more dedicated to commuting than myself, but they are only a few.

The cage disappoints me for 1 reason: All bikes have to be lifted off the ground and turned sideways to store. The city is working on setting up mini-repair stations in their parking areas, including pumps and multi-tools. While I think this is a great idea and could encourage new riders, this cage would better be improved by changing how the bikes are stored.  The inability to store bikes without lifting them means that the space can't serve:

• Employees with chronic pain, physical issues, or who are simply less strong. Physical exercise can really help people feel better but having to lift a big heavy bike at the end can be a deterrent. Already at least one regular commuter fits in this category. She parks her bike in the "old" spot by the motorcycles. Most employees in my work place are female desk workers; not a subset likely to have the upper body strength required for lifting a bike. The average age of workers is older than most companies as well. This storage option may be a great idea for a lot of workplaces, but doesn't serve most of the staff here.
• Employees with financial barriers. The cheaper the bike, the more it weighs. This is a rule. New riders or riders without financial resources could benefit from the cost savings of commuting, but may get discouraged when they realize how heavy their bike is.
• Employees riding electric bikes. Electric bikes start at 50 pounds. Seattle can be very hilly and an electric bike is a great option for people who live in hilly areas get to work in an affordable, environmentally responsible way. Electric bikes are also a great option for those who have a long commute and I would like to see their use encouraged.

I wish everyone could be helped by the bike storage, but recognize that it's mere existence is something to relish. Most employees don't have an option nearly half as good. I am lucky, and grateful that I am one of the few able to benefit from the cage. I think even if the storage detracts many riders, anyone who uses the garage can see it, and every little thing like this helps to normalize commuting. Ultimately, this is a great feat and a huge step in the right direction.

A bad day for encounters with trucks

A small Toyota pickup pulled out in front of me without using a turn signal or even lights (this was in the dark of morning). It pulled out from its street-side parking spot into the road, crossing my path on the bike lane. I don't think the driver ever saw me. It was a perfect opportunity to use my horn, but when the horn lever competes for my hand with the brake lever, the brake always wins. My brakes squelched in the rain, braking just in time for me to feel safe. I hoped the driver would eventually see me, but I think he had other things on his mind. His turn signal going the other way lit up as soon as he got in the road (still no lights) and he drove like that at least a half mile before turning. Later a large white truck waiting to turn right from a smaller cross-street pulled out in front of me. I saw the driver looking in my direction, so I braked with the hope they would eventually see me. I practically came to a stop by the time the driver noticed me. This happened when the truck bed crossed the bike lane and the cab was well into the road. They stopped anyway. I veered out into the road to pass. As I passed, I stuck my arm out with the "stop" hand sign. I do this to remind drivers when I have the right of way. It is something I do with some regularity at 2-way stops. I have no idea if the drivers realize I have the right of way, or if they just think I am being an ass.

When not riding the bike to work

Occasionally I don’t ride my bike in to work. Sometimes I ride the bus. The bus I ride services a long stretch of hardened Seattle, including many stops for shelters, pawn shops, the needle exchange, the free clinic, Department of Health and Human Services, and more. Usually as many people have to stand as get to sit, all hours of the day. And given by the number of services along my route, It’s safe to say many people on my route are not having a good day. It seems most people aren’t having a good day in general, but I think the case is especially so on the bus.

Decreases in empathy, compassion, and respect in our country are a talking point of most everyone I talk to over age 35. I see data supporting these assumptions in positive psychology research, generational studies, studies looking the sociology of social media, texting behaviors, palliative and eldercare, and the like. As I rode the bus, I considered how the bus appears to be a sanctuary for these values. Everyone unanimously gives up seating for elders, the disabled and mothers. Even the loudest of mouths sensor their words when a young child is nearby. When someone misbehaves, the bus riders around them try to soften the situation. People crowd and cut and rush when trying to enter the bus, but once they are on, doors are held open, and accommodations are made. I wonder, what is it about the bus that makes this captive audience of stressed out, rushed, and generally grumpy people treat each other with kindness? How can we extend the way we treat each other on the bus to other situations? Don’t get me wrong, I see plenty of people on the bus deliberately elbow others, pick fights, eat cartons of smelly onions, urinate, or take up extra seats with luggage while 30 others have to stand, but they are easily the minority.

Today on my ride in, the bus suddenly stopped at a jerk at an intersection. I couldn’t see what happened, but presumably a pedestrian jumped out against the light or something like that. The bus stopped so hard and fast that the wheels squelched and people fell out of their seats. Pretty much everyone seated toppled out (over half the seats on my bus face the sides of the bus, so there is nothing to stop someone from falling forward except another person).  People in the isles toppled on top of each other. I was one of the lucky few who happened to be standing behind a pole. My arms happened to be looped around the pole so when the bus stopped, I merely spun around, but didn’t fall. Several grasped on to me, however, instinctively grabbing whatever was around them that was upright. In the aftermath, several people groaned and hollered “OUCH!” which caused a chorus of, “Are you ok?” comments. The people around me apologized for grabbing onto me. There is a taboo against touching strangers, but I responded that I was glad to be a grabbing post since my positons was one of the few stable ones on the bus. 

Ride the Rain Challenge update

For the month of November, I am participating in the Ride the Rain Challenge. Historically, most rain falls in November in Seattle, and Seattle is known worldwide as a rainy city (even though you see far higher precipitation levels in cities in Florida and others, but I digress). It only makes sense that Cascade Bicycle Club sponsor a bike commute challenge during this rainy season. It does seem the average participant in this smaller challenge is more hardcore than the nationally celebrated May Bike Month. Bike month focuses on attracting new cyclists. While the Ride the Rain Challenge wants that, too, I am guessing most of these participants are seasoned riders. Still, by comparison, I am a super-commuter. I don’t feel like I am a “hardcore” cyclist, which makes me feel even more proud of my stats thus far.

Only 8 lives left

I pedaled breathlessly up the steep Fremont hill in the dark and din of rush hour. Before I could think or react, a scruffy Siamese cat dashed in front of my wheel at full speed. I turned my head in shock, taking a beat to register what was going on. It ran across the lane next to me. It crossed the center line. I saw the oncoming jeep. The jeep wasn't speeding, but going too fast for breaking to make any difference. I watched the cat bolt toward inevitable collision with the jeep's tire. I'm guessing the jeep saw the cat, but it was one of those moments where nothing could be done. An involuntary gasp pushed its way out of my lungs at full volume. Time stood still. In that moment that lasted forever, I had time to consider, "I am going to watch a cat get smashed. This is terrible, but I can't look away. I can't look away. What was that noise? Oh my god I just screamed a little, wait what's that other noise?" At that moment, the cat stopped still in its tracks, likely with whiskers brushing rubber, paused for a split second, then bolted in reverse back towards me. I will never know if I actually heard it's little claws scraping against the pavement, or if that other noise was just the grating guttural scrape of my own fevered gasps.

Requesting traffic signal maintenance from Seattle Department of Transportation (SDOT)

I wanted to send a request last month, the first time the issue occurred. Then it went away, and I forgot all about it. Then it came back, and I considered making a request, an then I got distracted. I couldn't take it any more after today, so I submitted the following request to SDOT this morning from the SDOT link: https://seattle-csrprodcwi.motorolasolutions.com/Home.mvc/Index

"The traffic signal at N46th ST & Fremont AVE North is intermittently skipping traffic turns. For the past several years, the signal at this intersection always followed the same pattern: green light for westbound, then green light for eastbound, then green light for north/south bound (except when the lights respond to sensors during weekends). However, the signaling has intermittently, and increasingly changed to: green light for eastbound, green light for westbound, then green eastbound, green westbound, then green light for north/south bound. I have also experienced 3 cycles for east/west traffic before one for north/south: (green light for eastbound, green light for westbound, then green light for eastbound, green light for westbound, green light for eastbound, green light for westbound, then green light for north/south bound). The traffic signals used these new unbalanced patterns today, 11/17, 11/12 (or close to that day, can't remember for sure), and for 4 days in a row the last week of October. During rush hour this creates a backup over 4 blocks in the north/south directions (past the zoo to the north and past Uneeda Burger to the south) as well as pedestrian congestion at the cross walks. Cars several blocks down honk when they realized they haven't moved in several minutes. This change also endangers cars, pedestrians and cyclists who anticipate circular light patterns and start moving when the cross traffic light turns red. If this is a permanent change, please post signage or other communication so travelers can predict and understand the change. If this is a malfunction, please address as the incidences seem to be increasing."

Other than that, this morning's ride treated me well. The trees are bare now, and the roads are clogged with fallen leaves. I think this may be the last of them this year. I also enjoyed the unusual smell of woodstove burning in the brisk morning air. I thought about how, when I ride to work just an hour later, my nose is bombarded by the distinct smell of frying bacon at the Red Mill Burger curve. However, at 7am, there is no smell along that curve at all.

Upside down and outside right

Not even the minor annoyance of wearing my ear-warmer headband upside down could sway this amazing morning ride. The tapered fleece band created a brim of sorts that sunk over my eyebrows when upside down. My lazy morning stupor didn't care to set it right.

The cloudless sky predicted a sunny day. The downright cold air meant I wouldn't get too hot once I entered the heated canopy of downtown. I must not have been the only one who thought it was a good day for riding, I was number 236 at the bridge counter.

I counted 5 blocks of traffic stopped at Mercer (busy road) that extended into a construction area. Construction sites make a habit of closing off bike lanes so cyclists have to merge with traffic. Ahead of me, 2 cyclists rode past the stopped cars by sharing the single lane with them. One car sat out of alignment from the others, hugging the construction cones. His position made it difficult for the cyclists to pass, and when they did, he hammered on his horn. I sat behind, parked in line like a car. There are many cases where cyclists dangerously ride the lines, but this is not one of them. With traffic clearly stopped, cyclists can pass safely. It's one of the times a cyclist has an advantage of a vehicle, when in nearly all other cases a vehicle is faster. I continue to be baffled by people who spread anger onto others just for anger's sake. As a community and a society, we would all benefit from consistent and ongoing transportation training. Perhaps the driver wouldn't have felt angry if all parties agreed on the rules. In the meantime, honking a horn won't change a cyclist's behavior, risks endangering them by the sheer shock of loud noise, and spreads the feeling of anger to all who hear it. This will be something I write a lot about as this blog develops.

amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyzing!

As I pedaled past a bus stop I heard a kid yell, "Your wheels are amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyzing!" It wasn't until the elongated second syllable that I registered he was talking to me. I have a Monkey Light on my front wheel. It is a string of blinking LED's along a spoke that I can set to display a variety of images as the wheel turns. Right now it's set to a flaming comet. I think it looks kind of like a hot teardrop, however. I waved back at the kid and smiled. I am always so happy to be a part of positive interactions between strangers. I didn't see any other cyclists until 5 miles into my commute. That's when "orange rafting bag" (I gave names to all the regulars I'm beginning to recognize on my route, but that's for another post) said to me, "We must be crazy to be riding in this weather!" He must have been right, because I was only number 131 to cross the bridge counter. The weather service warned of gale force winds again. At one point a truck paralleled me going the same speed, making me anxious. I slowed down so we weren't going the same speed, and he swerved into the bike line forcing me to brake. He quickly swerved out, then kindly put on his blinker before swerving back into the lane and turning. I am not sure if he was focused on finding his way and it happened to work to my benefit, or if he saw me and decided to signal. Either way, I was glad for his swerving out so I didn't have to make a full stop. Downtown, a lane-parked chauffeur tried to inch forward when he saw me stropped behind him. He stopped to pick up his riders, and apologized to me and suggested I pass him. I shook my head, not wanting to "ride the white line" as so many speed-hungry cyclists do. Never in 3 years have I encountered such a kind professional driver downtown. I hope to secure the multiple kindnesses of today in my memory banks for later when things do not go so well.

The past came so fast

Today the crisp, dry air brought a cold we've yet to see this fall. The song of ice scrapers hastily run across windshields filled my ears as I rolled through residential streets. I struggled to stay focused through the sleepiness of Monday morning. I observed the mural on the Mason's building on Greenwood. I always took it as an artist's collage of sorts, but today I realized it must be a geographically accurate view of the Seattle Cityscape, shortly after the space needle was built. Trees and greenery filled the areas around the needles and the few skyscrapers of downtown before opening up to the mountains and sunrise behind. This must have been what Seattle actually looked like 50 years ago. The mural looked great. Was it a new mural of an old scene, or had the mural just been well-maintained all these years?

A gas can lay in the bike lane. The sight overwhelmed me with gratitude; gratitude that it wasn't obscured by darkness or leaves and I didn't run into it. Typing about it now, I am regretful I didn't take the 5 seconds to pick it up and toss it somewhere less obstructive.

Photo courtesy of @City_Arts's Tweet: https://twitter.com/City_Arts/status/512703110007889920?s=09 

Today, in Seattle, there is a gale warning in effect

 ....that's what the weather forecast has been saying for days. The wind must have started just before my commute because debree hadn't covered the roads yet. But the wind came in full force. The wind terrified me, to be frank. It didn't continue into the evening, however, and I am relieved that I decided to ride home. Had I not ridden home, the terror of the ride into work may have stayed with me all weekend, causing me to dread the commute Monday. Luckily, the ride home revitalized me in ways only a wet, speedy work out can do.

Red, red rise

I left for work 20 minutes later than usual. I spent my "in case of flat tire buffer" preparing lunch. Like usual, the risks I take don't go unrewarded. I left late enough to watch the beautiful red sunrise (yay!) and ride in daylight (yay!). Sadly, my favorite Louis Vuitton window display changed. The window faces me at an intersection where I reliably hit a red light. They regularly have creative window displays, but the most recent display had product I actually liked for the first time (perhaps their advertising is working on me? Or maybe it was just a great item?) Bridge bike count: 252