I'm pleased to report that my butt did not grow into the couch while
I watched DVDs over the weekend while Barbara is away, as was predicted
by some. [Cough!]
Our first arguably spring-like day happened Saturday, so I took the
opportunity to get out on the bicycle. After getting a few chores done
around the house, I used it as incentive to actually go to work and get
ahead of the curve on an imminent deadline.
Though I usually prefer heat and sweat, it was a nearly ideal day for
cycling. Pleasantly cool, nice breezes (especially when I was headed
north instead of south), and sunlight. On the way home, I bumped into
Oliver Banta on the Rock Island Trail; he's apparently taken up road
cycling fairly seriously. I'll have to watch for him now, because he
told me he's seen me commuting. I was embarassed that I had not
recognized him. I managed not to bump into the folks strolling
on the path who insist on stopping to chat with people they know
blocking both lanes of the trail.
Barbara's in South Carolina, visiting her mother who is
undergoing treatment for cancer. I would have liked to gone along, but
the situation at the office is such that it's hard for me to take the
kind of time away that Barbara wanted to spend with her parents.
On Sunday, a cat I have never seen before appeared on our back porch
soliciting hand-outs. At first I thought it was Lorenzo, but this
fellow's stripes were more black and gray, less tan. In fact, he looked
very much like Penelope (aka Dr. Girlfriend), whom we took to Milwaukee
to be adopted by Kelly and James, right down to the distinctive shape of
his head.
He was neither collared nor neutered.
I tried to make friends and get a picture of him, but he was too
skittish—probably not domesticated. Lorenzo was none too happy
that he was around either, and that didn't help things. I managed to
stay between them so no fight broke out while the other guy made his way
off of Lorenzo's primary territory, but there was growling and hissing
all the way. Fortunately, Lorenzo elected to return to the back porch
instead of giving chase when the other guy finally ran off.
I made it a point to ride through downtown on my way home, on the
14th Street bike lane. I hit the lane at 14th and L a few minutes after
5:OO pm. I encountered no trouble from other vehicles on the road.
Everyone, including me, observed the rules of the road, and I was not in
any particular danger. I would have been more or less the same if there
were no bike lane, with the exception that I would have had to slow down
from 25 mph to match the motorized traffic.
Reports
of the dangerous, scary narrows that are the bike lanes seem greatly
exaggerated.
In today's Journal Star, Cindy
Lange-Kubick takes on the conundrum
of the downtown bike lanes, an issue I've wrestled with recently,
myself.
I sent her an email suggesting, as someone who is not intimidated by
the bike lanes or cycling in traffic downtown, that I'd be happy to talk
with her about it if she wants to follow-up on her feature.
Bike route?
I discovered, while riding with both feet firmly on the pedals, and
one had present on the handlebars at all time, a new
route to work that I like. It uses the 20th Street bike route to go
south from D Street all the way to Highway 2, just west of the
crossing.
I was surprised by this set of signs just north of Van Dorn, where
the bike route sign points directly into a dead end. It turns out
there's a relatively primitive shortcut path across the Irving Middle
School grounds.
It made me think about what makes a good bike route. It should not
(only) be a place where this is not much motorize traffic. Energy and
momentum are cyclists' treasures, and they should not be squandered.
There should not be many stops and starts, and cyclists on a bike route
should never be required to dismount.
Later on the ride, I found a place on the Rock Island trail where
someone had broken several bottles. I stopped to gather up as many of
the shards as I could. While I was working, several people stopped to
pitch in. Once we'd gotten up as much as we could, I started to ride
away. A woman called after me, You're going to go straight to
heaven!
Hmm, I don't know, but either way, I'd like to put the trip off a few
dozens of years.
While searching the states laws for rules of the road as they apply
to bike lanes, I didn't find anything about bike lanes, but I did find
these gems:
Riding of bicycles; prohibited acts.
(1) Any person who rides a bicycle shall not ride other than upon or
astride a permanent and regular seat attached thereto.
(2) Any person who rides a bicycle shall not remove his or her feet
from the pedals and shall have at least one hand on the handlebars at
all times.
[...]
So I guess we'd better have a saddle, for sure, and when we stop,
we're just supposed to tip over.