There's a Reason Cyclists Take the Center of the Lane Sometimes

A metro bus crowded me against a construction barricade the other day, brushing my arm with its side body. Bikes have to merge into one-lane traffic during a stretch of road where construction overlaps the bike lane. I take “merge with traffic” literally, assuming the center of the lane with my bike as though I were a car. Depending on the traffic load, sometimes cars have to wait behind me because I can’t get up to the 30 they like to go. Usually the traffic is heavy and we all go slowly through the construction. Some bikes speed by, weaving in and out of cars, but I stay safe and center. For some reason I hugged the side of the road the other day. I don’t know why I did that. Perhaps I was preoccupied with thoughts in my head. And that's when the bus brushed me. The rest of the day, the resultant rug burns on my elbow rubbed painfully against my clothing, a constant reminder of my idiocy. I felt completely at fault. Why didn’t I take the defensive center of the road position?

Then the burns scabbed over, lessening my pain and subsequent guilt. For the next several days, the tender bruising on my elbow completely changed my conscience. I have several bright lights on my bike. I wear reflective, bright clothing. I signaled my merge and rode at a consistent speed. The bus came up from behind and passed. The driver had no reason not to see me. As it approached, I slowed my speed, but it slowed as well. I was so sure it would veer left and give me more space. Instead, it veered closer to the construction barricade and blocked me in. The bus driver had every opportunity to see me, and every opportunity to give me space. Even if I wasn’t being defensive, I should have been safe. As the bus wall banged into my left arm, my bike involuntarily short to the right, making my front tire touch the construction barricade. Here, as I tried with all my might to keep my bike steady, the bus driver still had opportunity to veer left. Instead, it continued to narrow my passage. For a moment, while my elbow kept banging again and again along the bus wall and my wheel swerved madly, I was sure I’d fall. I didn’t fall, and I take full credit for that. Had I not had the practice of commuting 60 miles a week for the past 5 years, I may not have maintained control. If I were a new rider, that could have been my last ride. 

I’ll never know if the bus driver didn’t see me or was just being an ass. One thing I do know is that I will always take the center lane now when no shoulder is available. I also know that even if I am not riding perfectly defensively, others on the road share a responsibility to keep all of us safe.

I wish I could teleport all the drivers who honk at me and hate on me to that moment when I was sandwiched between bus and barricade, just for a moment. I am not trying to be “that” cyclist. I am not trying to hog the road and make life miserable for everyone else. I don’t have an agenda, I don’t have any snooty attitude. I am just trying to get to work. I think we all have a right to do that without having to wonder if we’ll ever make it in. 
 

Your bike, it talks to you

Bikes do a pretty good job of telling us what they need. Often times I hear chains crying that they are thirsty for oil. Sometimes brake pads like to squeal that they aren’t quite toed in right. Bikes, just like cars, send signals telling us something is wrong. It’s just up to us to listen. A couple of weeks ago my shifting cable was arguing with me; being tight and resisting me. I took note, and thought I should go to the bike shop about that. But I was about to go on vacation and my mind (and my lunch breaks) were elsewhere. I’ll deal with the cable after I get back, I said. Well, here I am back from vacation and the cable didn’t make it one trip. Just as I started peeling down 5th avenue, she snapped. That was it, my bike told me, no more. While I wasn’t in the best gear for climbing up the hills of 5th avenue (there are hills out there, people! Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there!) I managed okay. Still gotta get to work. My brakes were not affected, and except for riding slower, I felt safe to finish my ride into work and to ride to the bike shop. Whew!

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 149
 

"You're almost there, dude!"

The other day, as I peddled up the last push of the long Fremont hill, a panhandler hollered out to me, “You’re almost there, dude! You’re almost there, you can do it!” Often times, I drag on the way home from work. The Fremont hill is one I could spin through quickly and get a pretty good work out from. But, the timing is all wrong. It’s the end of my day. I’m tired, and I’m usually still recovering from the hair-bending stress of peddling through downtown. I tend to go as slow as possible, with my only motivation to keep peddling enough to not fall down. This guy on the side of the street had no idea how far I had to go, but he must have seen how much I was dragging. Supportive people are the best! If you have ever offered words of encouragement to a complete stranger, this is my thanks to you! Keep it up, your words move mountains (or move people up mountains, in this case)!

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 191

Traffic Flagger WTF?!

Today, a flagger stood his stop sign in front of me as I biked through a construction zone. Various construction zones for investment properties have blocked the portions of the bike lane on Dexter Avenue. for the 5 years that I’ve been commuting. Being stopped by a flagger is a regular occurrence, however, when there is just one bike on the road and no cars, like today, the flagger will often let the bike pass. I didn’t mind waiting, though. The flagger didn’t look at me so he may not have known no one else was there. Maybe he was new at his job- he seemed pretty focused on the semi-trucks backing into the road. Then he walked behind the semis, with his sign. Should I go? Should I stay? The flagger was gone, so I should go…I guess. The flagger left without glancing at me at all. Here’s where I got annoyed. The semis pulled into THE BIKE LANE. So, the flagger stops me, then blocks the bike lane without so much as an acknowledgement to the person on the bike. A little polite nod would have been enough. Common courtesy can make someone’s day.
I can’t remember exactly what year it was, but in earlier years of my commuting career, the flagger for another investment property greeted cyclists with warm smiles and fun conversation. I looked forward to greeting this eternally cheerful bearded dude every day. We chatted about the weather, the traffic, the job, whatever. The jubilance of the bearded flagger was kind of legendary, too. Every commuter I talked to, whether at work or at Bikes and Bagels or at other bike-themed activities, spoke fondly of him. Connection is a sort of thing you can have on a bike that’s different from commuting in a car. You can actually converse with other commuters at lights, say hello to parents walking their kids to work, pedestrians getting coffee, and anybody else you see. You aren’t confined by the closed walls of a car. Most people still choose to stay silent, and that’s where the happy bearded flagger shined. It didn’t matter how many jackhammers pounded around him, he still hollered “Good Morning!” to me every day. Acknowledgement of your existence is a wonderful thing, especially in hazardous areas. I miss that cheerful flagger! 

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 191
 

Polite Commuter or Annoying Commuter?

The above image is the intersection at Blanchard and 7th downtown. It’s an intersection I pass every day. In the winter months I tend to see only one or two other cyclists on the intersection, but during the summer it can be a steady line of bikes making the bike numbers equal or more than the cars. The street paint is worn, making the sharrows a sort of vague suggestions. Most bikes behave like the red bike above, passing all cars as though there was a bike lane. When they turn left, as most cars also do, they end up getting a right of way as bikes can weave through the pedestrians before cars and few Seattle drivers are going to not give cyclists a right of way. I tend to sit in line with the cars (the green bike above) because I don’t feel like it’s right that the steady stream of bikes get to go sometimes making the cars sit through several red lights. However, I am taking up space a car could use, along with making my commute last longer. I am not sure which is best to be, the green bike or the red bike. I constantly struggle with this. I feel like when I am on narrow streets with sharrows but no bike lane, it’s safer for me to ride in line with the cars (as long as I can keep up with their pace). But I can’t accelerate or break as fast as a car, making my behavior a little different than the cars around me. Since nearly all bikes behave like the red bike above, I struggle wondering what is right. If anyone reads this and has an opinion, please share!

Complexities of Cycling

When I visit my health club, I travel on the sidewalk for a bit. Ideally cyclists wouldn’t be on sidewalks, but that’s where the bike racks are. When I leave the sidewalk to get back on the road I have the option of getting to the bike lane by crossing a left-hand turn lane (the blue path). I don’t like doing this as many cars turn left here and I have to slow them down just to confuse them by stopping part way through the crosswalk. So I behave like a pedestrian, traveling on the pedestrian crosswalk until I pass the turning cars and can safely reach the bike lane (the red path). Pedestrians don’t like this and turning cars still sneer at me. Cars traveling west who want to turn right also get confused because I enter the street at their turn spot. I think I’m doing the best I can and it feels weird merely because of the general congestion of the roads. It’s just these sorts of things one has to think about as a cyclist. I am certain neither the drivers nor the pedestrians saw me exit the health club and wonder why I am on the sidewalk in the first place. 

All I can say, Is that my life is pretty plain...

Today the rain fell down relentlessly, without shame and without restraint*. I felt insanely grateful for my bike getup that keeps me feeling comfortable and safe. About 6 miles in, however, the wet soaked through my hands and feet. But it was wonderful and warm outside. I smiled as the drips pelted my face. This was way less painful than the hail that pelted my eyelids yesterday! At this point I had no reason not to ride through the puddles. I felt like a kid in the rain! Splash!
Plus, I knew I had a handy new boot dryer at work waiting to be tested. See, I have no problem getting wet on the way to work. However, putting on wet and soggy clothes to get home is no fun at all. So, the boy got me a boot dryer to use at work. It is being put to the task today, we’ll see how it performs. The label stresses not to use it on gloves, so I am trying them out on our coat rack. 

Fremont Bridge BIke Count: 158

*I love anthropomorphizing all the things.

If you didn't catch the title reference, grab the earworm of the day, brought to you by Blind Melon:

All I can say
Is that my life is pretty plain
I like watchin' the puddles gather rain
And all I can do
Is just pour some tea for two
And speak my point of view
But it's not sane,
It's not sane

I just want some one to say to me,
"I'll always be there when you wake."
You know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today
So stay with me and I'll have it made

And I don't understand why I sleep all day
And I start to complain
That there's no rain
And all I can do is read a book to stay awake
And it rips my life away,
But it's a great escape
Escape... escape... escape...

Seattle blushes getting dressed this morning

What a beautiful day to be commuting by bike! The fragile and fantastical sensations of this morning’s sunrise made me forget the fear, discomfort, and concentrated focus that typifies the urban commute. I didn’t capture it on photograph, but the sunrise reflected on the water looked absolutely breathtaking. 
Fremont bridge bike count: 170 (173 by the time I finished taking photos)

Everything is back to normal

I planned to write about another cold day, but I bundled up and was quite infected by the weather. This, of course is due mostly to the amazing life-saving Cold Killer Pant my mom got me from Title 9 Sports. I can’t imagine wearing any other pant in cold weather commuting.

 
The dreamy empty roads of the holidays are over. Cars and bikes are back to their normal winter numbers. I watched a car turn from a “no turn on red” lane while the light was red. As the car barreled into a steady stream of cyclists, one yelled, “NO TURN ASSHOLEWWWWWWW!” I couldn’t believe how well I heard him holler through his balaclava, the guy had pipes. Needless to say, I am certain the car didn’t hear him. And even if he had, he would have thought, “What the hell is wrong with all these bikers? I have the right of way!” See, if the car was being an asshole, he would have turned at any time. But he waited until the lane next to him turned green. If he had noticed his light was still red, he probably also would have seen the stream of bikes he turned into. I am certain the driver simply didn’t pay attention to the sign in front of him while he waited at the red light and/or didn’t pay any attention to the light at all. He was probably tired and possibly still hungover from the holiday. I wish there was a way to alert people of the ways their inattention puts others in danger, but that’s the problem with inattention, they probably just won’t notice. I am a cynic like that. It was hard to watch those bikes respond, I know what it feels like to be them.
Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 199

Happy New Year!

It was another cold one this morning. So, I decided to skip the morning workout (that’s right, I didn’t sleep in or anything, it was a decision) and wait to ride until the temps got a little warmer. Then I bundled it all up. I relished in another day of nonexistent traffic. Here’s hoping for many more joyous days!
Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 33

A new low

The last 2 weeks in December is my favorite time to commute by bike. I ride with fewer commuters than I’d see late at night when I worked swing shift. Today, being the “observed” Christmas holiday meant that there were even fewer commuters out than imaginable. Last year at this time, temps reached the low 20’s, so I wouldn’t see a lot of other cyclists, but today I had the lowest count crossing the Fremont Bridge than I ever had before commuting at a normal hour. Of course, the lights on 5th avenue were still timed their weird way so I spent a lot of time sitting at red lights without another car in sight, but it gave me a chance to swoon at the bright red sunrise ahead of me. I tried to photograph it, but the camera didn’t do the reds justice. However, I did capture the lack of traffic. The cafes and restaurants were brightly lit with lonely uniformed staff standing at the counters, but the office buildings, apartments, and construction sites were empty, dark, and quiet. Quiet! It’s a commuter’s dream. 
Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 25

Windy City Seattle

https://www.wunderground.com/us/wa/seattle

Today’s wind warning lived up to its name. My commute to work took 15 minutes longer than normal. Traffic lights swayed like swings on a swing set. Construction cranes waved and bowed. I didn’t see any fallen trees or debris, although I did see workers attending to a fallen utility line. I pushed forward with all my might. My usual easy breezy coast down Dexter felt like a massive hill climb. Gusts blew me around so much I thought I had a flat tire several times. My heart rate soared to 177 bpm when I pushed up the 5th avenue incline against the wind and I still struggled to keep up with the cars. Luckily I never blew out of the bike lane, but I white knuckled the handlebars the whole way making sure that didn’t happen. What an adventure!
Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 153

pulling over to talk on the cell phone

To those of you who pull over in your car to talk on your cell phone, I commend you! Thank you for making a responsible choice. Driving is the most life-threatening thing most people ever do, so it means a lot when you give your caller your focused attention.  However, there are ways to be even safer, which I’ll highlight below:

1.  If possible, choose a parking spot to pull over in. You won’t have to pay if you sit in the car and are just there for a few moments. Please make this choice especially if there is an empty parking lot less than a car length away from you. Please, please make this choice if there is an empty parking lot and open street side parking on the same block you want to stop.
2. If there is no available parking spots and no shoulder, it may be better to wait to answer the call until you find such space. If you must stop you vehicle in the middle of the street, please turn on your hazard lights. If you can’t turn on your hazard lights for some reason, at least turn on your headlights. 
3. A bike lane is part of the street. Conditioned cyclists can ride 25-30 mph, the same pace as cars in city and residential streets, so a bike lane is very much a part of the street. Think of it the way you would think of a carpool lane; part of the road but not intended for everyone. Go ahead and use it in the event of an emergency, that’s cool, but if it’s not an emergency, you may be causing more danger than you are fixing. 

I encountered this situation as I was riding into work. The morning was dark, wet, and rainy. I heard the tiny “ding ding ding” of a bike bell long before I saw it. As I strained my ears to figure the source of this patient, yet persistent “ding ding ding”, I saw in front of me a large SUV parked in the bike lane and a cyclist stopped behind it dinging their bell. “YOU WANT ME TO HONK MY HORN?” I yell at the top of my lungs as I approach. The SUV obviously didn’t hear his persistent “ding ding ding”

“AAAAAWWWWWWNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN”

I laid on my air horn and it was fully charged. A loud blaring honk jolts the driver, causing them to point their finger angrily. Neither me nor the quiet cyclist could tell what he was pointing at. He obviously heard my honk and he obviously wasn’t moving. Because the SUV was wedge in the bike lane between the curb and a parking lane bump out, we had to get off our bikes and walk into traffic to get past him. Sometimes I see delivery trucks or whoever using the bike lane as loading zone, which I am completely OK with when there are no other options. It’s obvious the driver is making the safest choice in their given situation. However, most of the time there is a perfectly good shoulder or parking spot just a few feet away. In this particular case, this SUV couldn’t have picked a worse spot to pull over. As we passed we could see he was on the phone. The person on the other end probably heard my air horn, too. The cyclist was amazed by the OOMPH of the air horn. I told him it was effective on "green light texters" as well.

The SUV was parked inside of a protected lane, like the one above, so there was no way for a cyclist to pass without hopping a curb. photo credit: http://www.peopleforbikes.org/blog/entry/it-turns-out-that-protected-bike-lanes-are-fantastic-for-walking-safety-too

I often hear that the shoulders and street side parking of many roads were eliminated so bike lanes could be added. This pisses people off, and I sometimes wonder if people park in bike lanes out of spite. To that end, I have a few points to add:

• Adding bike lanes allows more people to ride their bikes, meaning fewer people on the road, meaning car drivers can get where they are going faster and with less traffic!
• If there was not a bike lane, people like myself would still be biking. Except we’d be on the road. Slowing you down!
• That doesn’t mean I agree with the City’s decision to add bike lanes at the cost of parking. I don’t. But the City didn’t listen to me. It doesn’t help you to take it out on the cyclists. If your neighbor comes over and drops a big bowl of dog food on your floor and your dog eats all of it, you’d take this up with the neighbor. You can’t blame your dog for eating the food, that’s what dogs do. You can’t blame the cyclists for using the bike lanes, that’s what they do. Would you rather the alternative? 

Ride in the Rain Challenge 2016 Results

The results are in! I am happy with my participation in this challenge. I ranked first in distance out of all the other co-workers on my team and 2nd for number of trips. I am happy to rank first in distance. The challenge itself looks at numbers of trips. I assume looking at number of trips is more inclusive, because folks who are not cyclists can still ride their bike here and there. I am all for including more people, but when it comes to commuting, I think distance should be just a commendable. The shorter your distances the more trips a rider can make. There is a direct socioeconomic correlation with how close people are able to live from work and the grocery store, etc. I looked at the rankings, and the people who made the most trips did so by logging several quarter and half mile trips every day. I look at them and think, “lucky duck! Can I be your roommate?” When I looked at the participant who logged the most miles, I felt real respect. This guy had a 25 or 30 miles one-way commute to work depending on which route he took. And he biked to and from work every day. Respect, dude, respect. 
It was a good month. November gave me decent weather and decent drivers. Yeah, it rained, but it wasn’t crazy Noah-gets-PTSD sort of rain. It was just rain. It was cold. But not so cold. It was dark, but I am not yet tired and blind to daylight. I actually like riding in the rain better than most of my other options. Rain means fewer people out on the road and more cautious drivers. During the beautiful sunny days of summer, I am often stressed by the congestion of bikes on the road, the wayward tourists and overall distracted state of people in general. The people who come outside in the rain mean business. These are good people to share the road with. 

Fremont Bridge bike count: 129

Now that the Ride in the Rain Challenge is over, I am down to “winter numbers” on the bike counter. I likely won’t have more than 250 people riding  before me until February when people start training for Chilly Hilly. On rainy days, I’ll be in the low 100s. Good days ahead. Indeed.

The commuter mishap every cyclist has nightmares about

This day shall forever be remembered as the day I went to work without a shirt. That’s right. I totally forgot to bring the shirt I had planned to wear with me. It was an innocent mistake. See, I thought my work shirt might double as an extra layer while I rode into the health club this morning. Because the ride to the health club is all downhill, I am often extra chilled. However, when I woke up I found the temperature outside 10 degrees colder than expected and opted to pack my work shirt and choose a warmer shirt to ride with. I am used to having my work clothes packed in my bike panniers, so with the excitement of the morning, I just walked out the door without ever getting the shirt packed. We found out the secured apartment garage had a prowler in it again last night. Instead of leaving like I normally do, we checked out our stuff in the garage as I left. The vandal spared us this time. They tampered with the lock and door of our storage shed, but stole nothing. It appears other neighbors might not have been so lucky. Would I have still forgotten the shirt without all the excitement? Probably. 
Luckily, I couldn’t have picked a better day to forget a shirt. That extra warm shirt I wore biking worked out just fine as a backup. The bike shirt was new in 2004, and was too worn to look remotely appropriate much less professional, but luckily I had a little jacket to wear over it that kinda matched. Whew! Crisis abated! I am so glad I don’t work for a company that scrutinizes the professionalism of my attire, or else I would have been up a creek. I am also glad I have space to store extra sweaters and socks and underwear, to minimize the crisis of mistakes like these! 

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 253

Thinking of a kayak for my commute

Hey average rider, I am totally kicking your butt!

This October made history as the wettest October ever recorded here in Seattle. Not only did the rain fall, it fell hard. November is traditionally the wettest month of the year, and with my commutes mostly in the darkness already, I didn’t look forward to the Ride In the Rain Challenge. My count at the Fremont bridge rapidly dropped down to winter levels in the 150’s. I opted to join the challenge at the last minute. How could I not? This sort of thing is very much Seattle and I just have to do it. I have another long, dark, wet winter ahead, might as well make it as fun as possible, right? As soon as November started, my count jumped back up to the 250's, meaning there must be 100 commuters before me who are doing it just for this very challenge. Way to motivate us, Washington Bikes!

To commemorate the rain, I’ll share with you an epic rain ride experience:

Rain fell heavily on the way to work the other day. No matter, I have top end waterproof cycling jacket, and warm thinsulate gloves, and gore-tex shoes. It wasn't until half way through my ride that I noticed my jacket failed. My jackets has never failed me in the 3 years I've been riding in the rain, but today my arms, shirt, and phone all got a drippy layer covering them. 

Then, I turned an unforgettable corner. I turned right onto 34th from Stone Way, a turn I make every day. Usually my only concern is making sure there isn't another oncoming cyclist in my line of pedal. However, on this day, I turned the corner and everything stopped. So many sensations hit me all at once. I felt my bike come to a halt. This was the sort of halt when you suddenly find yourself going up a very steep hill and you shift in the wrong direction. If felt like the front of my bike got punched. At the same moment, I felt water cover me. Streams of cool water poured inside my clothing. My shoes, submerged in water, filled more quickly than I could register. As I watched water pour over my knees, my body responded automatically, involuntarily. Out of some soul unknown to me, my legs pushed down with all their might. My body didn't hesitate, when the force of my legs did nothing, my body reflexively stood up and pushed down. And pushed. And pushed.  My mind felt like a bystander, a watcher in all of this. One leg moved. Then another leg moved. Sometimes bikes halt suddenly in a ride, perhaps a strong wind or a skipped gear, and the body does everything it can to keep from falling over. As if falling meant terrible, irrecoverable doom. My brain the bystander finally caught up to the moment, "I am not falling. I'm upright. I'm a-OK. Let's observe the situation. What is going on?" I looked out and realized I hit a giant puddle. It was dark outside so the glossy black of the puddle was hard to distinguish from the black gloss of wet asphalt. I looked ahead, "where does this puddle end?" It seemed to reach forever ahead of me, ending in the middle of the car lane beside me. Reflexively, I started to turn toward the edge of the water. I stopped myself, realizing that would mean me turning into traffic and I was working too hard to pay attention to what's behind me. I looked down. One foot, gone, lost in the black glass. Waves crested over my knees. The other foot, gone. I thought, "How is it even possible that this water is so deep? I am on a road, I am on this road every day, how did it suddenly become a river I have to cross?" I got through the thick of it, the pool became a more typical wake of water splashing up form my tires. I, dripping from wet, looked around, frantic to find another cyclist. I pedaled alone. 

The next day, the river had drained. What I noticed though, is that the road takes a particular dip at this corner, making it much lower than all the road around it. What I also noticed was small walls of sandbags built up at the edges of the asphalt. I couldn't figure out what the sandbags where trying to protect, but that explained for the added depth in the puddle. To this day, the corner is covered in a thick, wet muck of leaves and road debris. It's easy to see how drainage grates wouldn't stand a chance in this spot. 

Friendly Friday

It's 5 o'clock rush hour in downtown Seattle on a Friday night. Rain just started to fall and I am zipping down 4th avenue in the shared bike lane. I look over my shoulder and notice a car lurking behind me one lane over. I continue on, look again, and notice the car still hasn't sped up. Why, I wonder, as I look ahead and see that there are no cars ahead of this one even though the other 2 lanes are full of cars. Oh, well, I wonder. I guess I need to change lanes soon. At that moment, the car sped up a little too fast, overtaking all the empty road ahead of me. That's when I realized the car was waiting for ME! The thoughtful driver probably saw me glance over and look at him and thought I was about to change lanes. He then held back all the traffic waiting for me to change lanes and I never did. I totally get it, when a cyclist looks to the side it totally looks like they are about to change lanes. Something about how the whole bike moves just from the head turning. Also, unlike a driver in a car, it is very obvious every  time a cyclists' head turns. I felt very warmed that the driver was so cautious and thoughtful of me. I feel bad that rather than thanking them, I probably annoyed them by making no intention to change lanes. 

A little farther, I'm stopped at a traffic light, and the cyclist in front of me gets in the middle of the car lane instead of the bike lane. "That's weird", I think. At that moment, the cyclist points at me and the giant UPS truck to the side of me. "He's trying to turn", he says. "Huh?" At that moment, I realize the bike lane is closed off ahead of me anyway, so there was no reason for me to be in the bike lane and every reason for me to be with the other cyclist so the UPS truck could turn. I moved, and the UPS truck happily went about it's way. I appreciated the cyclist pointing that all out to me and the driver for being patient.

Toward the end of my ride, I sped past all the slowed cars in the congestion of Greenwood. SCREE! A car is trying to turn out of a shop and the car stuck in traffic is letting them in. I don't know this because all I see is stopped traffic and can't see the big empty space nice people in the cars above me are leaving. I screech to a stop, leaving space for the car to get out of the driveway. Instead, he stops and waves me on. Aww, it was just so remarkable seeing people so genuinely patient during rush hour. No sooner do I pass those vehicles that the same thing happens again. I stop fully this time, no way are two drivers going to notice me in a row. But this other driver did the exact same thing. He actually seemed pleased to encourage me along. 

I probably miss out on many kindnesses made by others, just as I did early on in today's ride. However, their efforts are meaningful nonetheless, as I am still just as touched realizing it after the fast. I hope I can extend similar kindnesses to others on my next ride.

Shocking analysis of the Dexter Climb

When I started commuting to work years ago, I made it a goal of mine to span the entire Dexter Climb without dropping below 10mph. The special thing about this hill is that it creeps up on you. You start climbing. It becomes a bit of a bottleneck as you find yourself passing other cyclists just as more still are passing you. You make it past the bus stop and to the end of this , nice steady hill. And then. That's where the hill really starts. Suddenly, you realize it’s gotten steeper and longer. You look ahead, and you can’t see where the hill ends. If you pushed already, you don’t have enough push now to keep the pace. Finally, you can see ahead and it looks like the road levels out. But your eyes are lying to you. It’s still a hill and it doesn’t give up being a hill until you get all the way to the intersection. You know you’ve won when you cross the line of cars waiting for you faster than a snail, with a little breath and dignity left.
Today I pushed up the hill with everything I had. I thought it would be fun to compare Strava’s analysis with yesterday, when I strolled up the hill in a daze and no ambition. 

Todays' aggressive Dexter Climb

Yesterday's chilled out Dexter Climb

Yesterday I didn’t purposefully go slowly up the hill, I just carried on normally. Today I really tried. I gave it all I got. Just as I crested that last bit of hill I could barely muster the energy to make it to the end. It was the sort of effort where my legs went numb and my peripheral vision went black. Still, I stood on the bike and gave it everything. The monstrous difference in perceived effort appeared to be just that- a different in perceived effort. My cadence and heart rate were the same. I finished the climb a whopping 1 second faster. This seems to fit, given that I can coast all the way into work versus pound it to work and the difference in time is negligible. My peak heart rate was 2 beats higher today, which is interesting given the vast difference in perception. Most notably was a spike in pace part way through today’s climb. I passed someone on a folding bike before a bus bump out and tried really hard to pass them with enough oomph that I wouldn’t slow them down when I went in front of them. Perhaps the results would have been more impressive had it not been for that obstacle. Other than that, I am surprised in how similar each climb appears when just looking at the data. 

Today's aggressive Dexter Climb Analysis 

Yesterday's chilled-out Dexter Climb Analysis

Exploring Strava

Screenshot of this morning's "flybys"- I am the hollow black dot in the middle of the map.

I signed up for a Strava account for the first time a few weeks ago. I’ve been hearing about this cycling app/community for years, and always steered clear of it because everything I heard leaned toward competition. I am not in it (whatever “it” is) to beat anyone or win anything. Strava seems like the app of choice for cyclists, however, so I finally decided to give it a try. 
Immediately I can see the social pieces it builds right into the experience, whether you want them or not. They are somewhere very close to the fine line separating “totally cool and barrier-breaking” to “creepy and invasive”. 
For example, last Sunday I joined Cascade Bicycle Club for a group ride. I loaded my ride data into Strava, and the first thing it showed me was several other Strava users who went on the same bike ride. Even though I don’t know their names (we had 3 pace groups and some 45 people) much less their Strava usernames, Strava’s system easily calculated that we all went on the same bike ride together. Each person gave the ride a different name, but Strava knew. It knew we were all together. 
This morning I used Strava to track my morning commute. Stava’s “flybys” feature tracked other Strava users who I passed or passed me this morning. Not only did it track them, it provided me wither their names, routes, route speeds, and the exact point where we met on each other’s route. I’ve been naming the regular commuters for years, but only in my head. In theory, I could learn not just the name of “high cadence grey backpack lady” but also where she lives and works and how fast she rides overall. What about “flappy yellow rainjacket guy”? Strava could take my commute to a whole new level. 

"flyby" data from my Sunday group ride

A screenshot of my “flyby” data from my Sunday group ride is pasted above. Alexa, positioned below me, what the ride leader. I assume we only matched 96% because my phone stopped tracking just a few miles before I finished the ride. All the other people, well, they must have been on the ride, too. 

Pedestrians on the run

As I zoom downhill on my way to work in the morning, a pedestrian on the other side of the street starts to sprint as full speed across the street, jay-walker style. She is bolting for all she’s worth. I’ve never seen anyone sprint with such gusto while carrying a backpack. It’s after she crosses the center-line and reaches the middle of the car lane that she sees me in the bike lane. That’s when she stopped cold; deer-in-headlights.

“IT’S OK, PEDESTRIAN, I ALREADY SEE YOU.
I’VE BEEN WATCHING YOU SINCE YOU WERE ON THE SIDEWALK.
I ALREADY STOPPED.
I WON’T HIT YOU.
I PROMISE.”

Once I waved her on, she walked the rest of the way across the street and to her bus stop. 

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 333