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

Wring-your-socks-out commute

Today was the first sopping-wet rain of the fall season. Seattle has a lot of rain, and it seems to tend to peak during morning commute time, but it rarely rains very hard. Today was one of those rare days. Today it rained like in the movies, solid sheets of water thrumming straight down. It pummeled my face with this stinging-dagger-drops. It ran down my legs, through my socks, and puddled securely inside my water-proof shoes. 
The locker room at work lacks space to dry wet items. Wall hooks are premium spaces and our lockers (if you are lucky enough to have one) don’t vent. I try to leave my locker doors open on these soggy days so my clothes can air out and I don’t open my locker doors to thick air and the odors of wet dog and mildew. Sadly, well-meaning co-workers close my door every time I do this. I have gone through every effort to make it obvious I meant to leave it open, short of handing a sign, which I’ll do if they close my locker today. I really hope it’s obvious. And if a co-worker steals my dripping wet bike gear…well…then I’ll be a sad panda.

I'm the one doing it wrong

The last couple of weeks of commutes have been particularly challenging when it comes to near misses and feeling safe. No person or thing has been hurt, but I’ve felt pretty shaken several times. This led me to re-evaluate my riding behaviors. I took time to carefully observe others. I always thought that a responsible, safe cyclist was supposed to “behave like a car.” I’ve taken this seriously and do everything on a bike just like I would when driving car (behaving the same at intersections, etc.) with 3 exceptions:

1. If there’s a bike lane I’ll ride in that
2. If I can’t maintain the pace of traffic, I’ll ride on the shoulder or edge of the lane
3. I avoid coming to a complete stop (starting from a dead stop is tiresome when you have to do it over and over) 

I see other cyclists riding between cars on the center line, jumping sidewalks and running lights. I always thought those “reckless bike-messenger wanna-bes” were the odd ones out. But then, after careful observation over the past couple of weeks, I’ve taken note of other cyclist behavior. I’ve probably observed hundreds of other cyclists. I am the only one who rides with traffic. If I am the only one, then it must be me who’s doing it wrong. Where did I get this idea of riding in the first place? Why have I felt so virtuous for riding this way for so many years when it clearly is not the way to ride? Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen anyone else ride with traffic in a very long time. I feel embarrassed for having touted this riding style for so long. 
It all makes sense to me now. This must be why I get honked and yelled at so much downtown. I think pedestrians would rather me just go on my way than slow for them, and I think cars mostly prefer I just get out of their space as quickly as possible. I’m going to let this observation sit with me for a bit, I am not sure what to think of it. 

The morning commute of achievement

picture blatantly stolen from: https://yogawithmaheshwari.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/chaturanga-how-to-perfect.jpg

I rode my road bike to work today while I wait for new tires on my commuter to arrive. I tried patching up my tube on the commuter one last time over the weekend, and it too went flat. HOLY MOLY! I got to work 13 minutes faster and burned 80 calories fewer than I typically do on the commuter! The perceived exertion was about half. The Dexter hill? That hill I challenge myself to ride without dropping below 10mph? The hill I can meet said challenge if I redline my heart rate at 175 bpm? Yeah, I blew up that hill at 12mph with my heart rate never going over 165. I was able to pedal at car speeds in downtown traffic while barely winded. It’s remarkable the difference a bike can make. I also walked up the 4 flights of stairs from the parking garage like a healthy person. I usually take each step slowly and deliberately, pulling myself up along the side rail to keep the sharp stabbing collapsing pain my knees at bay. What is most responsible for this difference, I wonder? Is it the overall lighter weight of the bike combined with missing the 20+ lb. load on the panniers? Is it my flashy tires with considerably less rolling resistance? Is it the mid-range components compared to the entry-level components on my commuter? While more people still passed me than I passed, I can tell myself they must all have better bikes than me. Sure, it has nothing to do with individual performance. Nope. I bet all those people flying past me have hidden electric motors, too. Right, right?
I also did a real chaturunga in yoga this morning. In 20 years of practice, my knees always hit the ground first. Today, perhaps because I felt so pumped on the bike, I lowered to the ground in the ideal way; chest and legs touching simultaneously. 
Confusingly, I checked in at my health club with more gains in lean muscle mass than I had in all 6 months of working myself out to death; blood, sweat and tears. I say confusingly because the spent most of the past month sick with a cold. I hardly exercised at all and lifted weights even less. Obviously, I can’t continue to gain muscle while lying in bed, so I’ve decided this whole body composition methodology is bogus. I will move forward gauging success only by performance. Body compositions seems like an easier fitness indicator. When it comes to fitness, there are so many factors; endurance, stamina, power, speed, etc. that I am not sure what I want to measure or how. For instance, the speed at which I finish a 100-mile bike ride is an indicator of endurance. However, stronger muscles will enable me to climb more efficiently which would improve my finish time. And it is a different muscle that allows you to power up a short, steep hill than it is that allows you climb up a long, constant hill. Who knows. As long as the process is fun, right? 

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 311

One of those days

I bounded out of bed this morning with uncharacteristic determination to go to yoga class. I dress, ate, and hoped on the bike. Flat tire. Yoga is out. It would take twice as long to get there by bus, and since I happen to be out of spare tubes, I had to patch the tube which will take at least 10 minutes. Given the pouring rain, I would get to yoga too late and too drippy. I set to patching the tube and found my bottle of patch cement all dried up. That’s OK! I have more! And the second bottle was empty. That’s OK! I have more! With the tube securely patched and tires scoured for guilty objects, I pumped the tube and….pssssssssssst. A second pinprick hole on the opposite end! I set the second patch. My new super bottle of cement took forever to dry. I need a new tire, I know. I have about 9,000 miles on this tire, which is probably a pretty good life. The tread is worn, the side walls are cracked. I gave up trying to ride to work. The risk of the worn out tire being the cause of the flats and simply creating another flat down the road seemed too likely. Then the rain came pouring down. It was an omen. Defeated, I sat in my bike outfit on the bed. The cat just sat there and stared at me. It was like she knew. She just kept staring! It could have been worse, my coworker lives in Bothell, north of me. A huge “3 alarm” fire broke out in the wee hours of the morning downtown, redirecting transit and traffic through the morning commute. Not that there isn’t a reason delaying traffic during rush hour daily, but a fire through a historic area is particularly tragic. 

I see London, I see France...

I biked along the Burke Gilman trail on a warm and sunny day earlier this spring. A tall woman pedaled up to me and said, “Can I say something to you? I don’t know….maybe you already know….but….In the sun, and it’s sunny, I can totally see your underwear through your leggings.” I gasped, dumbfounded. Me?!?! How could this be?! “Thank you!” I yelled, “I had no idea!” She nodded, peeled ahead of me and was gone. 
I’d seen the underwear of many women riding bikes downtown. I usually shake my head, sad that some people don’t have enough money to bike in proper pants and had to wear tights, or had bike pants so old that the threads became transparent. It never occurred to me that the wearer might not even know. 
I pondered what to do the rest of the ride. I had no jacket with me, nothing to cover up my embarrassment. I happened to be wearing the world’s goofiest pair of underwear, of course. A sunny afternoon on the Burke Gilman meant hundreds of people would see my transparent ass and I was at least 10 miles from home. I had no choice but to shake my booty in pride. Yeah, I meant to show off my ass! Yeah, baby, yeah!
I wore “leggings” so I could easily transition from bike to gym. These leggings were new! And black! How could they be see-though? I hate going to the gym in bike pants because I feel like a goober lifting barbells with a diaper butt. At the same time, my business casual work clothes are no more appropriate for the gym than they are the bike. I already wear 4 outfits a day and I don’t want to pack another. Since that day, I’ve wondered about all the other pants I wear on the bike. How do I test their transparency? I can’t see behind me. I bike to work alone, and am not about to ask a stranger, “Hey, so, can you see my crack?” I’ve told friends they had to look at my butt on my bike in the sun, but sunny weather is hard to plan in Seattle and months have gone by since that incident and I still am none the wiser about the rest of my pants. It occurred to me that none of these women bearing it all would have any clue, unless someone like myself told them.  This appears to be a woman’s issue only. So few men wear lycra or other tight-fitting thin fabrics (outside of proper bike shorts) in the sun. 
So this morning a young woman passes me- and there they were, rainbow-striped bikini briefs for all the world to see. This was my opportunity to pay it forward, return the favor that was bestowed upon me. But I couldn’t. I balked. Honestly, I was more concerned about embarrassing myself, tumbling over my words than I was embarrassing her. I hesitated, too- maybe she wants us to see all those stripes? But, as women on bikes, this is our duty! No man in this day and age ripe with objectification awareness is going to tell her about her giant crack on display for the whole world to see. We have to do it! Or, better yet, ladies- check your backsides tonight! Grab a trusted friend, or at least one with a good sense of humor! If you can see it all at home, I bet you can see it all when it’s perched high out there in the sunlight. 

Fremont bridge bike count: 494

Rush hour good samaritans

My eyes dart back and forth. My feet pedal with the quick pulse mixed with hesitation that only rush hour calls for. The time is five o’clock and I am biking in downtown Seattle. The 6 lanes of one-way traffic on 4th avenue hustle with more bustle at this hour than any other. Transit buses overlap each other as some stop for riders, other have to fan out 2 lanes to make a turn, and others simply need to get going. Tourists jolt ahead only to stop at each intersection, rubbernecks reaching to find the turn they are looking for. Taxicabs and tired, stressed out commuters honk and tailgate, trying to get ahead. Other commuters, having given up on the rush, lay behind, texting in a daze while their car inches forward. Pedestrians assert their right of way, either because they too have to get somewhere right now, or they are downtown with nothing else to do besides meander the streets. Then there are people like me; the cyclists, trying to find the sweet but impossible balance of energy conservation while mimicking car like paces, all the while watching out for every lane change, distracted driver, pothole and utility grate coming their way. Other cyclists, riding the white line zip past me, blowing my hair up as they pass. I lurch forward, pedaling as fast as I can to stay behind the car in front of me as it approaches the next intersection. The car in front of me swerves to expose a sedan to my left, pulling to a stop, angled across 2 lanes. The driver dashes out to the back of the car. What is going on? I observe the situation. The older, white-haired man looked at me with clear, but expectant eyes. He hurried but looked at me again. The first thought that came to mind was “heart attack”. Why else would someone stop their car across 2 lanes in the middle of rush hour? I stop, not really thinking of the cars behind me. They swerve and merge with the lane to my side. He hustles to the back of the car as quickly as he could. He says to me between breaths, “that lady on the bike….” He bends to the ground, “dropped her iPhone.” He picks it up. The giant, bright, still lit screen displayed whatever artist was playing through the earbuds, still attached. “I didn’t want anyone to run it over. It could be smashed in a second” He says. I acknowledge him, gazing out ahead. I saw no one on a bike. “She’s lonnng gone” He says. I’ll call someone on the phone right away, get it back to her.” By then he was back in the car, starting the engine and navigating the screen at the same time. “Thank you,” I said, “you are doing a great thing today. You will make her day.” And with that, I got back into the thick of traffic and pedaled home. He may have hoped I knew the woman, it would have been great if I did. I didn’t help at all. Still, I smiled all the way home. Amidst all the skepticism and fear that abounds, , I took comfort in knowing here were people out there who were willing to take a risk to help a stranger out. The man’s action also gave me a useful anecdote. I could sit in rush hour traffic, basking in the despair that comes from knowing I’m surrounded by frustrated people, buried in a pointless rat race. Instead, I can now imagine a few dots among the thousands slowing down traffic because they are doing a selfless deed. That sure makes traffic easier to take!

Seattle traffic lights; I don't understand you

Traffic light timing in Seattle seems like it is all over the place. I can’t wrap my head around it. I wish I understood why or could get some sort of explanation behind it. Is there anybody out there in the internets who might be able to enlighten me? Hello? What are the chances you, oh wise one, might be reading my blog? 
For years I could ride the 1.9 mile stretch on 5th avenue downtown from Bell to Union waiting at just one traffic light. Since last fall, I’ve had to wait at 2 lights. For about the past 2 weeks, I’ve had the wonderful luxury of the timing being set the old way and I’ve been able to blast through. It’s been wonderful! Today was pay back. Today I, and every other driver on 5th avenue, had to wait at every single light on this 1.9 miles stretch. This had nothing to do with traffic. Because the lights are timed and the lower pedestrian level, traffic backups don’t slow my or anyone’ progress until south of Pike. All 8 lights were just timed to stop us at every block. I waited an additional 14 minutes at these lights (yes, I timed each one). It delayed me so much that I didn’t have time to shower before work. Sorry, co-workers. Please send you letters of disgust regarding my body odor to The City.  
I actually sent a letter to the city regarding the inconsistent light timing at 65th and Fremont. Months later I got a reply. They said they checked in out and couldn’t find anything wrong. Now the intersection flips back and forth between the “old way” and the “new random way” I am trained to expect anything. I still don’t understand why. There must be a reason the timing changes like this. Someone, a team even, planned this, decided this, and programmed this. I wish I just knew why. 

http://www.geekwire.com/2016/seattle-traffic-nightmare-heres-citys-software-plan-reduce-gridlock-using-high-tech-traffic-lights/

The source of the above photo reports that a computerized technology was implemented this month that is intended to "intelligently" adjust traffic lighting in "real time". Traffic on 5th avenue appears to be worse overall this month. The increased slowing south of Pike makes sense to me; it's tourist season and there is a large construction project on Madison. If this fancy traffic thing is the culprit, I would expect the crazy lighting today to be in response to something significant and unusual happening adjacent to 5th avenue, but there is no big event today. No president, no protest, nothing that I know of. 

Molasses

thick n' creamy

Today is the first day I biked all the way to work in a couple of weeks. I’ve been sick with a respiratory infection and every time I tried to exert myself I’d be attacked by a coughing fit that would leave my chest muscles stinging in pain and my lungs desperate for breath. I wasn’t really ready to ride yet today, but I had to start again sometime and with President Obama coming to town right on my commute route and the added congestion brought on by Pride festivities and various sporting events, I knew that taking the bus today would take twice as long as biking, or worse. Turns out it was a good decision. While traffic was light on my commute, I passed a steady string of cop cars, cop buses, and cop SUVs wrapped around The Westin and adjacent roads, Obama’s Seattle home base. People I met commuting just an hour after me, even those on the light rail, came in late. Obama doesn't even arrive until 3pm or so. 

Riding today can only be exclaimed in terms of molasses. I pedaled so slowly that the word passed by a though it were encased in dripping molasses. My tired, un-acclimated legs pushed through the air with a slow intention as though the air was made of molasses. My lungs pulled air in with a slow and ineffective intensity as though my esophagus was filled with molasses. The rain and clouds made the horizon look like it was behind a molasses filter. The cold in the air chilled my fingers and toes as though my blood flowed through me like molasses. My arms moved slowly, as though my body were filled with molasses. Molasses, everything molasses. I am glad I rode today, but I am hoping I start to feel better soon.

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 174

I glove you!

There is a certain spot where I disrobe on my ride into work. No, I don’t get totally naked, it’s just that there is a definitive line where my commute crosses into the urban heat island. Most of my commute into work is downhill, so the more rural stretches can feel bitter cold in the morning. I cross into the heat island long before my commute flattens out, so it’s before the last long, big hill that gloves, hats, and jackets come off. This morning I hurriedly swapped gloves, started pedaling just as the light turned green. I heard a voice call out behind me, “YOU DROPPED A GLOVE!” I awkwardly tried to stop and turn around- not so easy when you are on a bike on a sharp descent. The lady driving the SUV behind me actually got out of her car to pluck the glove out of the road in front of her and hand it to me. I gawked in shock. The light is green! It’s just a glove! You can run it over, it’s fine! But, there was no one behind her, and she was far swifter bending over than I would have been on my bike. I thanked her profusely. Seattle drivers tend to be more relaxed than other cities I’ve lived in. They are totally OK driving 40mph on an empty interstate, stopping in the middle of rush hour to say hello to someone on the sidewalk, spinning around in the middle of a busy intersection to find a better parking spot, slowing at a huge interchange to check their GPS, and stopping on a green light to recover a lost glove, apparently. Usually I am aghast at how calmly Seattle drives (dare I say passive-aggressive?). But today, the calm response helped me out, instead of being in my way, and I felt very thankful! There is a piece of community that is lost when you just drive life by. 

Image from http://cliffmass.blogspot.com/2015/04/human-alteration-of-climate-what-media.html (as a side note, read this guy's blog, it's pretty cool [haha, cool, get it?!])

Skunk butt!

Because of planned bike riding shenanigans later, I rode my “good” bike into work today. Before I left, I checked the forecast and noted it called for rain. I looked outside and saw it was rainy. But, because I left at oh-mygawd-o’clock in the morning, my sleepy brain didn’t really register this. I didn’t apply my removable fender and didn’t strap on lights. It didn’t take long for my butt, backpack, and jacket to soak up the wet street spray, grime and dirt. Again, because I rode my “good” bike, I had to carry my things in a backpack because it can’t support my panniers (which are delightfully waterproof). I carefully packed my backpack, like I always do, making sure nothing critical sat on the top of the pack if it were to rain. I did not, however, consider the bottom of my pack getting wet. Like my skunk butt, it too absorbed the water. So when I got to work all wet and soggy, I took a shower and then put on nice soggy work clothes. My shirt and pants are both dappled with polka dot blobs all around them. They are not uncomfortably wet, just a damp reminder of my poor judgement. I’m embarrassed for not having lights. How could I forget something that could really impact my safety? I got to work feeling shameful, but luckily without incident. 

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 188 (What? I have been in the mid-400’s for weeks! Can that many commuters really been steered away by the rain? Are that many people skipping out on work Friday to extend a 3-day weekend? Do that many people get Memorial Day off? I am shocked, I say! Shocked!)

Keeping up with Bike Everywhere month stats

Not only is the team I ride for in 1st place of all of the City of Seattle teams, individually I am in 4th place! Now, the placing is based on "number of trips" and since I ride to the health club and to work, I am riding more "trips" than I have in the past. However, I must mention that City Employees have to log their miles into the Bike Everywhere month system through a portal website maintained by the city. This particular portal does not accommodate anything other than 2-equally distant commutes per day. It's based off the outdated model that bike month was about commuters and rides to the grocery store, etc. are not counted. There is a tedious and time consuming work around that I took the time to deal with, but I imagine most employees don't bother. I certainly wouldn't have in the past. So, really, my being in 4th place has more to do with my logging methods than my actual biking. One thing I can for sure be proud of is miles ridden. So far I am in 16th place overall for the city in mileage. And 3 of the people ahead of me are on my team! Whoo hoo!

Biking by the Velveteen Cafe

I pedaled around a residential corner in the weee hours of Seattle’s early morning. I came upon 4 fluffy bunnies sitting in the green square of a front lawn, chewing on a patch of clover. They huddled together, kind of like what you’d see in an office around the water cooler. Their little noses wiggled and their mouths waddled back and forth as they considered the delightful clover. I call them bunnies because they didn’t look like the typical rabbit I’d see on a bike ride. Usually a brown tufted rabbit with dull fur and a thin belly would gallop across my path between the bushes of a bike path. I’d usually see them on that invisible but distinct line where city turns to country. I assume they are the wild, native rabbits; cottontails. These bunnies had dark, thick, shiny fur and plump bellies. Were they pets? Did someone really have 4 rabbits they let roam free? The house they sat in front of is on a busy street, and within sight of a ramp to one of Seattle’s major state highway. Perhaps the family only lets the rabbits out before 6am when traffic is light. 

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 444

We're number 1!

The bike team I ride for is currently NUMBER 1 out of all the City of Seattle bike month teams. Since the City of Seattle employs some 10,000 people, it's pretty remarkable to be number 1 at something. Feeling a little bit of pride about right now!

Bike Everywhere month

It appears I am more active on the saddle than the average participant. Pretty cool! But, wow, the average participant is pretty awesome, too! Other than folks that bike more than me, I don't really know anyone who bike 56 miles in just a couple of weeks. You rock 'em, Seattle!

It's the final Friday

April has been a fascinating month for the bridge counter. On days where it is raining or threatening rain, I’ve clocked in at the low-200s with numbers like today’s 230. On days where sun is guaranteed, like the sunny 80-degree days Seattle saw last week, my number skyrockets to the upper 500’s; 550, 560. I have not seen variation like this all year. It seems like many months over the winter I would clock in a short range of 10 numbers or so for many days. April, however, has been all over the place. Just like our weather, my count has risen up and down and all over. Today being the last day before May Bike Everywhere Month and the following June, I wonder what my numbers will be next. I suspect they will double. They may even triple on the sunny warm days. It will be interesting to see. 
Today I got to joyfully wave at several courteous drivers. I love it when cars passing me that want to turn right not only use their turn signal, but also slow down so I know I can bike past them going straight without worrying they are going to hit me. Every time I pass these wonderful people I give them a “wavewavewave” with my hand. I hope they know I am saying, “Thank you! You are amazing and I feel more safe because of you!” This morning’s nice gestures made up for last night’s mayhem...

I used my air horn. TWICE! A car turning right jutted out into the intersection at full speed, flooring the gas pedal. Then, for whatever reason, he changed his mind and jolted to a stop, right over the bike lane. Over a dozen of us on bikes braked and squealed and swerved when he blocked the lane. One cyclist could have easily not braked as hard as the guy in front of him causing a cascading domino of crashing bikes. Luckily, this didn’t happen. The pile of bikes had nowhere to go with the car in the way. I honked. The guy in the front of the line pounded on the car’s rear window as he passed. He could have been using the car as a sudden-braking brace, but I think he was trying to alert the driver to what he just did. I would feel angry and violated if a stranger pounded on my car. I am hoping my honk communicated more of an “alert!” message instead of a “f-you!” message. 
The second time I honked a car tried to turn right on a no-right-on-red light. I feel bad for drivers turning right in this spot. The cars to the left of them get a green light and go. The bikes and pedestrians to the right of them get a green light and go. In nearly every intersection this means a car turning right can go, too. This intersection is unique that the turning lane has a red light straddled between greens. This guy had his hands gripped on either side of his steering wheel, his brows furrowed tight as he leaned forward over his steering wheel. You could tell he intended to turn. At this point, the piles of cyclists in front of me started yelling, “No turn! No turn! Red light! No turn!” But the guy kept crawling forward. I swerved around him and honked. If I were the one driving, I would have thought I could turn, too. What I don’t understand is when people start passing and hollering that the driver doesn’t look and notice the no turn and red light above. I’ve honked at this intersection a few times. Traffic continued to be high level insane all the way home. I am grateful to have encountered so many thoughtful observant folks in the following morning.  

Emerald City Bike Ride Recap

The Wooleaters crew. photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters

I pedaled my bike down through the lovely Green Lake and Ravenna neighborhoods on a dark and early morning to meet the Wooleaters at the University of Washington. Every cyclist I met along the way was going the same place as me. That comforting sense of camaraderie among strangers is one of my favorite, most powerful feelings. A sea of people, hundreds of people deep flooded the start line in the chilly morning. We waited a while for the whole group to get together, then stood in line for an hour to get to the start of the start line. From the start we walked our way all the way to the SR520 bridge ramp because the roads were so congested with riders. You would think spending so much time moving so slowly would be frustrating, but it's one of the best ways to be waiting; waiting to do something you love. 

Waddling the Montlake Bridge Emerald City Bike Ride, Seattle, Washington. 

Once we got going on the 520 Bridge, the ride go really fun. The best thing was seeing families out with their children. There were plenty of tweens and school-aged kids, unsteady and insecurely trying to pedal bike that were a little too big for them. The cutest thing, though, was the tiny, tiny children. Children so small the didn't look like they were old enough to walk. Children that barely came up off the ground. Children covered in pink or blue and streamers and helmets, coats, light-up shoes and bikes all color-coordinated and matching. How did they even do any of this? How were they even pedaling? I tried to imagine myself at that age, not only being on a bike, but being able to navigate around some 7,000 other riders. 

Crossing the SR520 Bridge Emerald City Bike Ride, Seattle Washington, April 3, 2016 by SheRidesToday.com

Then it was on to the express lanes. Over a bridge, down the center corridor between both directions of Interstate 5, and into the expressway tunnel. This was the highlight of the ride. 

Jessica, me, and Abby on Interstate 5. Photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters

Me with my rear-view sheep. Photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters

I am not sure which part of being on Interstate 5 I liked better. Was it hearing the cyclists cheer in unison when we got to another cool part of the ride? Was it the amazing views of the city? Was it having the time to absorb Seattle in it's full glory from a vantage point usually seen behind a windshield? Was it the colorful, crisp and sunny day that this first Sunday in April was turning out to be? Maybe it was the strength felt by riding down a center road, straddled by rushing freeway traffic on both sides. The din and fume-riddled stench of all that traffic contrasted against the simplicity of legs silently pumping up and down created a sensation that cannot be described, only experienced. I took out my GoPro and held it in my hand. I wondered if some time in the future, one of the photos from this ride would be taken out of context, perplexing people for hours as to why so many cyclists pedaled on a desolate Interstate. Sure, I've ridden on Interstates before on bike rides like this one, but never before quite this way. Being surrounded by speeding traffic on all sides is pretty incredible. 

Biking the I-5 express lanes downtown Emerald CIty Bike Ride, April 3, 2016. Seattle Washington 

This post is late in coming because I spent some time trying to piece the video clips together. I used iMove which has changed considerably since the 5 minutes I used it 2 years ago. The video editing software was easy enough, but I had a hard time figuring out where to click and getting my mouse to click where I wanted it to. I am actually impressed with how well they turned out considering how barbaric the editing felt. 

Personal stats for this ride vary quite a bit from the sanctioned ride. Less than half of my ride that day was on the actual course, due to getting there and back and following along on a quest for brunch. 

Stats:

• 29.7 miles

• 3 hrs elapsed time

• 9.7 mph

• 26 mph max

• 61 rpm average cadence

Photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters

Are you ready for Bike Everywhere Month?

The first 2 years I participated in Bike to Work month, I reveled in riding more miles than everyone else on my team. While I couldn’t compete in number or percentage of trips, I easily shot over everyone in miles. I consider myself only mildly competitive, but I was pretty proud of this fact. It made spending 40 hours a month commuting worth something. Then, the focus changed from “Bike to Work” to “Bike Everywhere”. Inclusiveness is the goal, and it doesn’t make sense to exclude those who don’t work or they do and have a job that is flat-out not bikeable. That’s cool. I’ve had those jobs before and admittedly felt like I was missing out. But now, I can’t compete. Nearly all my miles are commute miles, and while I have a long commute, it doesn’t compare so the single joyride ridden by my peers. I like to blame this on me working more weekly hours and having half the vacation of most of my co-workers, but that probably isn’t actually true. Needless to say, I look forward to this year’s Bike Month with more trepidation than I had in the past. The biggest hesitation is the timing of my ride. Now that I commute during rush hours, I am leery about the increase in bike traffic. More riders and newer riders add hazards that can be a hassle. However, I still endeavor to make the most of it. Because free bagels! 

Protected lefts are still not safe

The other day, during evening rush hour, I made a left-hand turn on a 5-lane intersection. I waited in the left-hand turn lane until I had a protected turn with a green arrow. Sometimes this intersection is busy, sometimes not. Just as I was completing the turn, a car facing me in the opposite oncoming lane decides to turn right. There is nothing against a car turning right when the light is red. However, it’s typically most accepted to do when the intersection is clear. While still dangerous in a car, this sort of thing is especially unnerving on a bike for a few reasons. First, I essentially have 6 lanes of traffic to cross before my light turns red. Traffic lights are timed for easy-to-accelerate cars, and a cyclist with fully loaded panniers starting up from a dead stop need to generate as much momentum as possible to have the speed to cross in time. It’s a law of physics. By the time I reach the end of the intersection, I am pedaling as fast and hard as I possibly can. I was also turning onto an uphill road (Stone Way), another count against a cyclist’s speed. When the car turned in front of me, I had no choice but to brake as the speed at which he accelerated made it clear he was not going to yield to my right of way. I doubt this driver has ever tried to put on the brakes while turning a bike. Braking on a bike when going at full speed while in the peak of a turn is not a good idea. I’ve never lost ground, but it feels like the wheel will just skid out from underneath you and you end up landing on your side. Hard braking is just not an option. I had to straighten my turn while braking. As my rear tire fishtails across the pavement, my front time comes within inches of ramming into the car’s bumper. My angle was such that I was able to change direction and turn to the inside of him rather than stop. Had he decided to brake at all I would have hit him.  As I watched my wheel approach his bumper, I pumped my brakes harder, skidded further, and gasped a little. Luckily nothing happened. A few feet ahead we both had a red light (all his rushing was for nothing; the cars turning with me, in front and behind me, all had to wait at this light). As I approached and passed him, he didn’t appear to have any idea I existed, much less just saw my life pass before my eyes due to his actions. 

The picture above depicts my fear, what really happened was that when he accelerated, I braked and the bumper I nearly hit was the opposite (passenger side) rear bumper. While the above collision would probably have been the most damaging to my skull, we could have collided in many other ways that still would have been a bummer on my part. These are the things you ponder while pedaling in the city.

Extra precautions required

Last night I began crossing an intersection when my light turned green. A car sitting in cross traffic sat with it's bumper overlapping the cross walk (see diagram above). This was pretty mild, as bumpers nearly always ooze past the crosswalks and into the bike lanes during Seattle's evening rush hour, especially at major roads like Denny and Mercer. I am hyper-alert when I bike in the city, trying to anticipate every potential hazard that might be ahead, especially when I cross busy intersections. But who could expect this to happen? At that moment, the car to my right jumped into reverse and backed up into my path of travel. I swerved madly, braking would have done me no good. I didn't want to swerve into cars also crossing in the next lane, so it was a maddening second of swerving and trying to grapple my air horn to alert the reversing car. Where was it reversing to? Why? There was no where for it to go except into more traffic. The white of it's rear lights came within inches of my knees. I rode the following block slowly thanking the stars for my chance to stay upright. As the surging adrenaline slowly purged from my shaking body, an SUV passed with a passenger leaning out of the window. He hollered "Are you OK?" He must have been a few cars behind me. Shaken, but OK, I gave him a big "thumbs up" and beamed a huge smile attempting to convey the message, "Thank you for caring!"

That wouldn't be the end of kindness on that ride home. Later on, a Smart Car parked parallel against a curb burst out of his spot, in front of me in the bike lane. The second he pumped the gas he saw me and slammed hike brakes, making the little Smart Car look like a cartoon. He yelled out his open window (yay for sunny days!) "SORRY!" I yelled back, "It's OK, but thank you for stopping!" While he was right there, I am used to stopping on a dime for cars with much less warning. He had his turn signal on; good sir. I was ready for him. 

A second later a pedestrian half way across the street bolted to a stop when she saw me coming on my bike. This always cracks me up (in a sad, shameful way). Pedestrians stop dead in their tracks when they see a cyclist, often in the path of oncoming cars. They will often not even look in the direction of cars, but a bike is a thing to be scared to death of. She was walking on a crosswalk and she had the right of way.  I slowed and waved her forward, "It's OK, go ahead!" I said. I hope I translated the same kindness in my voice at the other two who extended kindness to me. 

Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 87 (normal time, but it's a Saturday)

• 7.94 miles
• 34 mins. (50 minutes travel time so 16 minutes stopped at lights)
• 13.7 average mph
• 29.5 max mph
• 339 feet climb

It will be fun to compare these stats with a typical weekday.