Women and Men, Women and Men*

Out of curiosity, I decided to count all the men and women I saw biking this morning. When actually pressed to label a cyclist with a gender, I found it difficult to do. So many cyclists wear the same black plants, reflective jacket and helmet. Both men and women tend to have long, board-like body types. I noticed my own body shape change and straighten the more I started riding more than other activities. Tufts of hair or ponytails poking out from under the helmets did not confirm gender. I opted to only count those with determinate characteristics (beard, hourglass figure, etc.) This meant that I really only counted those who passed me. Several cyclists would catch up behind me at stoplights to later trail off who didn’t get counted. I didn’t feel like looking behind me and staring. I counted 26 men and 5 women. Tomorrow I think I’ll count pedestrians and/or bus stop lines. The more I paid attention, the more I felt like there were more men out there in general, and I’m curious to confirm that. 

And the light on 5th and Virginia is back to normal! For the past few months one light has been out of timing with all the others on 5th avenue. This is the only stretch of road, to my knowledge, in all of Seattle that is timed so that cars can drive through all the stoplights at the speed limit without having to stop. While I can’t keep up the 25 mph speed limit, without traffic I can make it .6 mi. all the way to Union. A car without traffic could get to Spring at .8 mi. After 7:30, I almost always have to stop at Pine for a bus, cab, or cars turning right, and then at every other block where cars turn right until I get to work. It’s been frustrating to have to stop at Virginia every day, because this is a flat stretch of road that I can blast through at about 20-22 mph, fast enough to not tick off the cars behind me. Of course, this stretch is often  full of green-light-texters, and timid-parkers who slow everyone down. The great thing about this stretch though is that all right-hand turns have a turn lane, so no one is slowed down by a turner (they have to wait until pedestrians clear the road, which is never). The light at Virginia regularly goes out of sync on Sundays, as it's been, but not usually during the week. I am not sure what the goal with that is. Perhaps, if I am lucky enough, a traffic engineer will read my blog and comment (hint, hint, you traffic engineer you!)

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 263 (I was 155 yesterday, crossing it an hour before normal)

*Today's blog post inspired by TMBG

Move along, nothing to see here

I apologize for having not said much about this week's commutes. I know you are horribly disappointed. The truth is, I haven't had much to say. It rained a lot. It stormed a lot. The wind gusts knocked my socks off during another one of Seattle's "gale warning" days. Actually, I lied. My socks stayed put, too scared to move. The wind did blow the giant gas grill over at home, tearing the door screen and nearly shattering the glass. Chilly Hilly left me sore and tired. I have been in high hundreds to low two-hundreds on the bike counter. Perhaps next week's rides will have more nail-biting tales to offer. 

EGGS-actly!

An EGGS-ample of my breakfast; eggs and veg links

I decided to bring eggs to work this week to have fancy eggs-poached-in-the-microwave breakfasts. Yesterday I nestled them on a spinach pillow inside my lunch bag. I worried about them breaking and oozing all over my lunch all the way to work. See, Seattle’s bike lanes are riddled with seams, cracks, man-hole covers, pour-over fixes, and potholes. As it turned out they arrived just fine. Color me EGG-static! 
EGG-cited to take in all my eggs for the rest of the week, I placed them in a plastic egg carrier used for camping. Because it’s for travel, right? I heard my eggs rattle with every bump, lump, and divot I ran over. LOUDLY. The sound was EGGS-treme! I tried my best to navigate the smoothest path possible. But still, all I could hear was clunk, clunk, rattle, rattle, rattle, shake. I am not EGGS-aggerating here. A few miles in, I stopped to EGGS-ercise and tentatively checked out my eggs. I was a little scared that they’d all be cracked, but took comfort in knowing that they probably wouldn’t keep rattling so much if they were broken. One poor little guy didn’t make it. It was EGGS-plosive. I removed the unharmed toughies and put them back upon a bed of spinach in my lunch bag. The remains of the EGGS-iled weakling sat perched still in the plastic carrier, out of contact from the others. Rhymes of humpty dumpty filled my head the rest of my  ride into work. All the kings horse and all the kings men…

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 209

When school bus drivers get distracted

Enough daylight rose above the horizon at 7am for me to change the setting on my headlight. Which means that my bike computer won’t have interference and I can use it. Since I started climbing “the hill” at 7, I took this opportunity to track my speed for the first time in many, many dark months. I had a strong and powerful start, and didn’t drop below 10mph- which is the goal to stay at throughout the length of the hill. 
Yet, it was all for naught. Just at the first apex, the “false summit” as it were, just past the public bus bump-out, a school bus sat parked right over the bike lane with its “unlawful to pass” flashers on. Crushed, I pulled to a complete stop. Other cyclists behind me, piled up doing the same. Moments passed, cars started to pile up. None of us saw any children, and a lady next to me (I’ll call her 90’s neon jacket) commented that this shouldn’t even be a bus stop. Just then, the flashers changed to steady red lights and we passed on. 90’s neon noted that the driver was sitting in her seat texting. All that for texting! Moments later the school bus passed us, with the driver still texting as she passed. She pulled just ahead of us into a real loading zone, not on the bike lane, with her yellow lights flashing. She chose a much better place to sit. As we passed her, we saw her still chin-deep in her phone. Maybe I'll get to attack that hill tomorrow. 
Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 201

Waiting for all the riders

Nobody here but me

This how the employee bicycle cage looks in mid-February at work. It’s how it looks on most days in February….and January, and December. Granted, not all commuters use the cage, and not all work the same shift I do, but just wait until I post a picture of the cage in May! It will be full! May is Bike Month, and everybody comes out and rides. What is it about Bike Month that gets so many people pedaling? Why don’t they keep doing it? A big, organized competition comes with a lot of social pressure, so that must me it. Maybe someday I’ll really understand. 

5-Hand Friday

Drivers do this thing when they are turning from a lesser street to a major street; they steadily roll into the intersection while they look for traffic. I do the same thing. It really helps when the street has parallel parked cars or trees making it hard to see. However, drivers frequently also do this thing, where they look right at me just as the car is covering the bike lane, and don’t register me at all. When this happens, I give them “the hand.” I feel confident they will see me, and hope that the added movement of my hand will take my visibility to the next level- of actually being seen. I also use it in hopes the car notices that they have obstructed the bike lane, making me either brake and loose precious momentum, or swerve out into the car lane. Today I did this 5 times. How is it weeks can go by and I don’t need to use “the hand” at all, and suddenly I need to use it five times?

A woman downtown never saw me. She was turning left from the left on a one-way. I was in the left-hand lane as I would also be turning left at the intersection just ahead. She pulled out at full speed without once looking in my direction. I had to come to a full stop. I haven’t had to do that in a long time!

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 193

Indy 500 CDL (commuter ride report)

As I pedaled down a long straight-a-way, a semi pulling two trailers of gravel started to pass me as it decided to floor the gas. I looked at the yellow light ahead. It was clear that there was no way the semi would make it. I had already started coasting, knowing I wouldn’t make the light either. The semi was peeling down the left hand turn lane, and I thought it was pretty ballsy for a long truck with such a heavy load to take a left hand turn on a stale red light during rush hour. Some trucks take a whole light cycle just to make the turn. At the last second, the truck suddenly changed its mind and pounded the breaks. It made a loud stinking screeching noise and bowed out to the side, into the bike lane. It stopped in time. I was glad I decided to coast when I did or the truck would have bowed into me. This particular intersection gets a lot of bicycle traffic, so there is a designated green box for all the bikes turning left. The skidding semi covered the left hand turn box, the crosswalk, and the green way for bikes going straight. I had the option to either turn around and pedal to the end of the semi to wait for my left or sit in the car's right hand turn lane. Knowing the semi would take the whole green to turn, I opted to block off the cars wanting to go right. I sat there worried that a car wanting to turn right would come behind me and lay on his horn while I had to smell the overwhelming stench of the burnt smell brought on by the skidding semi. I was impressed how strongly it smelled! Luckily, no one came behind me until the light turned green. I signaled spastically (did the semi even see me? He could have swerved right on me while he was braking!) and pedaled out as quickly as I could so as not to be in the way of the truck’s wide turn. It all worked well. While the semi took the next stretch as quickly as humanly possible, we met again at the next light 500 feet later without alarm or craziness. I chuckled, the poor guy didn’t get ahead at all with all this. The rest of my ride continued without incident. 

Sunrise, sunset (commuter ride report)

It’s that magical time of year again, when I get to bike to and from work underneath the brilliant orange, red and purple that is the Seattle sunrise and sunset. How do I get to be so lucky that there is a sweet spot where I can see both in one day? I loved it when this happened in the fall, and hope this spring session treats me with clear skies so I can enjoy it while it lasts. What makes the Seattle skyline such a deep, dark purple? If there are any meteorologists out there, I am curious to know. I don’t remember seeing such dark purples anywhere else I’ve lived.

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 263 –Really! Look at that! Still over 100 more people than I’ve seen all winter!

Seattle riders are growing (commuter ride report)

I wanted to post an entry last Monday when the Fremont bike bridge counter soared up to 209. Up until that Monday, the variations in rider counts were mostly due to the time I’d cross the bridge. Days I’d cross over early, 7am or earlier, would be in the double-digits. Days I crossed late, you’d see the numbers higher. One day I was number 179 (not a blog day) and I wondered if I should also post the time I crossed the bridge to make my numbers more relevant. But, then, last Monday, I crossed at my usual time, and I was number 209. This seemed crazy. For months I was nearly always the same number at 7am, about one-thirty-something. And suddenly, the first Monday of February, the number of riders increased by 70! I haven’t seen a change that big since summer! I wondered if there was some secret code Seattle cyclists followed. How many cyclists decide to start riding in February? If an additional 70 made the decision just before 7am, just on this one bridge, the actual numbers seemed astronomical! And then there was today- 333!! I couldn’t believe it! The number has more than doubled! I guess cyclists like to ride in the light?! It’s not even light yet at that hour, but you can tell the sky is thinking about it, threatening to bring us daylight. Apparently that is all Seattle needs to get riding. I can’t wait to see how the numbers grow as the light continues to creep into the earlier moments of the morning!

Light, the light! (a commuter ride report)

Today I had the day off from work so I decided to ride my bike to the health club. As I pedaled home, something did not feel right at all. I pondered; was it my tires? No, they were well inflated. Was it because I rode without the load of breakfast, lunch, and a change of clothes in my panniers? No, that wasn't right. What made me feel so odd, so different? Why did the road and the cars all look so strange? Then, as I squinted in the overcast Seattle grey canopy- it hit me. This was the first day I've ridden my bike in the daylight in 4 full months! In fact, I have never ridden the route to my health club in the day light because I only joined a few months ago. No wonder everything looked so different! Hey, there's a lake over there! Looking forward to the oncoming spring and the return of the light!

Bike gadgets FTW

photo credit: http://www.monkeylectric.com

Last night a tall cyclist, I deemed him “fly white guy”, caught up to me at a traffic light. He commented on my colorful array of lights. I have 38 LED’s with my bike in 5 lights, so more than most. When I first starting riding I had nearly double that in LED’s, but I’ve upgraded in quality and lumens over the years so I am actually more visible with fewer lights. He still couldn’t figure out why my bike was strewn with cables and switches, so I showed him the air horn. I explained that it is useless any time you need it because you can‘t honk and brake at the same time. But then, as the light lingered red, I qualified that the horn was best for “green light texters”. He said that would be a good marketing slogan for PEMCO (local car insurance company); “Green light texter- you are not one of us.” I guess PEMCO’s current advertisements are based around a “We are a lot light you, you are one of us” campaign (great campaign for a local company). After that, we turned on separate roads only to meet up again at another light. We chatted again about the pros and cons of different side streets and then rode in silence for several blocks.

This morning “racing kit and backpack #53” (there are too many guys like this to tell them apart) gave me a thumbs-up as he passed me, hollering, “I like your lights! That’s awesome!” A few miles later “guitar case pannier” (how cool is that?!) passed me while hollering, “Great blue stars!” My monkey lights are in a star pattern at the moment. I’ve had them this way for months, and for some reason people are taking a notice now.

We are getting Rocky Mountain rains again. Except in the rocky mountains it only rains (or shall I say dumps) for 20 minutes or so, not the days on end we are seeing here. Potholes are springing up left and right on my route, and I wonder if the rain contributes to the road decay. Seattle certainly has a hard time keeping it’s roads in decent repair, it may be that the weather fights against it. This rain is uncharacteristic of the Northwest, however. Rains fall light here, we’ve grown to expect a constant dewy mist, the kind of thing that renders umbrellas useless. This rain breaks umbrellas!

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 143

Kali and the moon

photo credit: http://www.kalibhakti.com/

My morning got off to an unexpected start as my yoga instructor decided to channel the Hindu goddess Kali in class. She started out giving passionate, gory descriptions of a furious, fierce, blood-drinking woman wearing necklaces of skulls and a skirt of disembodied arms. The wakefulness and rapidity of the voice she used to describe the goddess didn’t fit with how I usually think of yoga; a quiet, meditative practice with candles and dark. All this everlasting hunger for blood and guts and digesting all the gory demons seemed more fitting for, perhaps, evening yoga. While most of my professional life included a large amount of blood and body fluids in some regard, I worried for any soft-stomached or vegetarian yogis who don’t often confront blood and flesh-tearing hunger stories. The ride into work followed the mythical morning. A misty, foggy nearly full (just 2 days after) moon illuminated the dark sky, making what is usually a black canopy around me a…brighter black canopy. My racing mind (and not so racing pedal feet) brought up visions of werewolves and all the hungry, hungry things we think up to scare each other with.

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 123

Business, business

photo credit: www.usatoday.com/story/life/movies/2014/02/24/will-ferrell-lego-movie-man-upstairs/5770727/

Unlike yesterday’s reflective ride, today’s ride was all business. First I spent a long time draining, washing, hanging, and adjusting fans on every bike accessory last night to ensure I would have dry everything this morning. The sheen of the water on the black roads and twilight and first light make it difficult to see. The road become one giant reflective path making everything on it indistinct. I perfected every hand signal, every turn, every pace, making myself as visible as possible. My eyes scanned the horizon above me in rapid, mouse-like rotation, ensuring nothing missed my awareness. The potholes, filled with water made black puddles like little black holes dappled across the mirror that was the road. A flock of school children crossing the road appeared to be mere shiny pixels on the road-mirror. Today was all business, business. I often times these days identify with the Will Ferrell character in The Lego Movie, making what once was fun into work. I especially feel that way these days, comparing the feel and nature of bike commuting to the recreational riding of years past.

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 167

A wake honoring those before me

So much rain fell that my wheels made a wake in all the standing water. This morning’s city-sized puddle made for a new record of standing water I’ve seen in Seattle. Even on inclines I passed through enough water for my wheels to spray and ripple through like one giant puddle. For miles I could see a water line in the bike lanes as the curvature of the roads created edge puddles inches deeper than that in the middle. I pedaled along in joy, as the rain beaded up on my jacket and smothered my pants. Even though the drops pounded my face like little daggers falling from the heavens, for the most part it created the feeling of freedom, knowing I could penetrate the wet shield and move forward. It wasn’t until the 7th mile that I felt the cool water seep in through the tiny opening between shoe and pant leg at my ankle. I felt the wet trickle down my ankle to be absorbed by my fleece sock at the bottom of my foot. I felt the fleece sock slowly growing bigger, wetter, and more water logged. When the sock could take no more, I felt the water squish out from under the bottom of my feet with every down stroke. It was the same time that I felt water sneak in to the tiny gap between my gloves and the wrist of my jacket. I felt the water stream down my hand and pool into my palms. Braking distance multiplied by four even though the pressure of my hand squeeze doubled. Other than braking and that last soggy mile, I remained dry, warm, and comfortable the entire ride.

I waxed poetic at length, mesmerized by the wake around my front tire. I considered the alternate concept of wake; the morbid but celebratory vigil for the dead. I decided today’s wake would honor those ancestors who died and provided the fossil fuels to create all the things that made this ride in a downpour so pleasant. I felt so much gratitude for the plastic fender that kept the wake low. I reveled in amazement at how my Title 9 “ColdKiller” nylon/polyester/spandex pants and Pearl Izumi softshell and thinsulate gloves kept me dry and warm without leaving me hot and sweaty. I thanked the stars for my Showers Pass Artex rispstop  jacket that kept all water from touching my skin and somehow kept the sweat out too. I felt gratitude for my Salomon Gore-Tex shoes and Dana-made fleece socks keeping my feet cozy and dry most of the time. I thanked my Pearl Izumi fleece headband, plastic helmet, and plastic helmet cover for keeping my head dry, warm and safe. My lunch and workwear stayed dry thanks to my Ortlieb plastic and 3M Scotchlite panniers. With the exception of the aluminum frame of my bike, I was nearly entirely sounded in materials originated from fossil fuels.

With each ribbon of water I contemplated the circular nature of things. In some small way, the manufacture of each of these helpful items contributed to the global climate change that made today’s rain more like a Rocky Mountain rain than the Northwestern rain the earth here is accustomed to. It is the fact that I work for a living that requires me to purchase all these items, yet the expense of all these items is why I settle for a (higher-paying) job that requires such a commute in a major city. It all comes around. 

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 154

Unscathed!

Wednesdays have been bus days lately because I have an evening class in a neighborhood sketchy enough to make me want to avoid parking my bike outside. However, major construction started on the Aurora bridge this week. All north-to-downtown transit buses depend on this bridge and with it being shrunken down to one lane, I worry that commute time would double. Needless to say, Wednesday has become a bike day!

One of the potholes on my route vomited this morning. I dodge several potholes on Fremont Ave on the way to work. It’s a scary road for potholes because in the dark of night I cannot see them until my bike light illuminates them a mere few feet in front of my wheel. No street lights illuminate the little landmines. Also, the road is so steep that one could probably coast to 50 mph without using the brakes (I haven’t tried it, but I have gotten up in the high 30’s some early mornings by just braking a little). Lucky for me, I am so familiar with this road that I have every lump, bump, and pothole memorized. I could weave through the landmines in my sleep. However, today, it appears there was an attempt to fill one of the potholes as a spray of rubble poured out from the hole. It looked like the hole was filled, but someone forgot to seal the gravel or something. The little black pebbles sprayed out of the hole like broken glass on the road. Obviously, there is no hazard to my tires, but with the rain pouring down I could have slipped and slid all around. Luckily, I did not.

Closer in, I caught up to a tall gentleman riding with his bike rack seated behind his rear wheel at a 45-degree angle. I noted the rack wasn’t secured to the frame or seat post at all the way most racks are. It was only secured at the rear hub. He had 2 very full panniers strapped to it. While the rack wasn’t shaking, the precarious positioning of it made me want to stay clear of his trail!

Once again, I survived all threats to my commute and arrived to work unscathed!

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 158

Super clean bike

This week I had a flat that I kept not finding time to repair. Each day I went to bed without fixing the flat was another day I didn’t ride. To my rescue, a certain special someone took it upon themselves to fix my flat and then clean my bike while they were at it. What a treat! Every nook and cranny was scrubbed and shined, from the rubber on my tires to the cranks to the fenders! Even my saddle got a conditioning (Whee!) I think the bike looks better than it did when it was new!

The only odd thing about my ride this morning was that I hit 4 red lights on 5th avenue. Since I usually hit one, this was a little alarming.

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 168

The Ministry of Silly Walks

image from http://www.thetimes.co.uk/

The day started out even colder, in the high 20s. I doubled up hats and had to keep wiggling my fingers. One of the problems with chilled fingers on a bike, compared to skiing, is the fingers are depended on to brake. If your fingers are too numb to move, braking doesn't happen.

I met with my trainer this morning at the health club and added some pieces to my workout routine. We started out walking with straight legs kicked up as high as I could go. I instantly felt like a part of the Ministry of Silly Walks and this thought entertained me for the rest of the morning.

I passed a few stretches of ice, but nothing slippery. In one spot, a street light illuminated a huge stretch of fuzzy frost over the bike lane. In it I could see the tire tracks of the 77 cyclists before me. The contrast of the white frost over black pavement and the random placing of the straight lines looked artistic and beautiful. I wanted to take a photo. I am glad I didn't stop and try however, because my photo app took several minutes updating firmware when I tried to take a photo later in the morning.

I also learned that my feelings of bonking yesterday were false. Today I rode with certainty that I was on top of my game. Other cars drove along with me as well. I still hit the red light in the same spot, so the light timing is off again. It does this from time to time. I am often startled. The nice thing about this version of timing is that I don't have to wait at the Coach store. Funny I didn't notice it yesterday and assumed I bonked. Fremont Bridge Bike count: 78

The cold never bothered me anyway

The weather report read 30 degrees and light snow when I woke up this morning. I  never saw the “snow” symbol on my weather report before. Because my usually amazing toasty pants don’t keep me warm below 35, and the first 4 miles of my commute is downhill, I added a fleece face mask to my attire. I felt comfy as a kitten! I didn’t see any snow, but every parked car I passed was completely white with frost.

I didn’t get to see the baby-cradle pothole this morning as the whole lane where it was, for several blocks, was blocked off for road construction. I couldn’t quite tell what they were doing, they certainly had more equipment than needed to repair a pothole, but I hope they do repair it while they are at it.

I started to bonk by the time I got to downtown. That hasn’t happened in a long time, not since the heavy physical labor at work days. I pedaled so slowly I couldn’t keep up with the timed lights on 5th avenue. The lights are timed at 25 mph, and without traffic, you can go 10 blocks without stopping. I usually make 7 blocks before my lungs give out. Today I tuckered out before the 4th block! Either my tire is too flat (my front tire has a slow leak that is too slow to deal with), I got too cold (possible!), or I didn’t have enough fuel left in my blood (I did nearly faint during yoga and had to stop to regain my balance). Needless to say, I felt more gratitude for the hot shower at work than ever before. They even installed a new shower head that is far better than before. Now, I am all better.

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 95

New route = fun route

The new route I take to work to include a side trip to the health club is a mile longer and more fun. I wasn’t looking forward to riding that extra mile, but the route is so much better it takes the same amount of time. This new route cuts out several traffic lights, is on a smoother road, and avoids the steepest hill of my commute. All these things make for a faster ride. There is one 6-way intersection where I have to wait FOR EVER if I hit a red light, but so far I’ve only hit the light about 50% of the time. There is also one unmarked pothole in the bike lane large enough to fit a newborn baby into, so I have to stay on guard to avoid that. And watch out for babies.

Today, as I was turning left from the health club, across the road and onto the bike lane, a cyclist zooming downhill at about 40 mph yelled “HEADS UP!” I am glad he did, because it was perfectly timed, and I did not even see him when I started turning. To my credit, he was probably in another county when I looked.

And just for fun, I updated my Monkey Light from red and green Christmas stars to blue and green Seahawks stars. Cause, why not? I am waiting for the inevitable chorus of drunken cheers as I pass fans on game day.

Fremont Bridge bike count: 69 

Last Monday of the year, best Monday of the year

Today's ride, devoid of most traffic and activity, felt like riding through an idyllic small town. The time nestled between Christmas and New Year's must be a week of vacation for so many people that is completely transformed the roads. I noticed a drastic decrease in traffic on the roads last week. It was enough that even pedestrians noticed, but a difference enough to notice is nothing compared to a difference enough to completely change the experience. I started my ride at 5am so I could enjoy an hour of yoga before work, and at first I assumed the stark drop in traffic due to the hour of the day, but when I finally arrived downtown at my normal time, it still felt like 5am.

I also had a driver in an SUV pause before making a right hand turn across the bike lane I was crossing. I waved a crazed THANK YOU at him- this particular setup scares me the most on a bike.

By the way, yoga felt amazing. I think yoga and cycling fits together just as good as cycling and beer. And, since I don't care for beer, this is a very good thing.

Fremont Bridge Bike count: 78