Saturday, June 11, 2011

when they say "bike" lane they are not talking about you

Two days ago I am (wait for it) biking home from work.  Attentive readers will notice that pretty much everything that happens to me is on my way to work or the way home from work.  There is a lot of rush hour traffic which matters exactly zero to me because although there may be other bicycles in the bike lane it's never enough to really slow anything down.

I'm pedaling up Sand Hill Road, the most significant hill on my commute.  It has a traffic light partway to the top which is red but I'm pretty sure will turn green when I get closer so I'm working hard.  I notice a loud flubbering farting sound and a bad smell.  I glance in my rear view mirror and see a big fat motorcycle coming up the bike lane behind me.  "Bike" lane, get it?


I think it over and then down-shift and keep down-shifting.  Now with my tiny gears and my steep hill I'm pedaling like a monster but, you know how this goes, barely moving.  Light is still red.  Motorcycle is immediately behind me now.  Light turns green.

I dutifully pedal like my clips were burning my feet and continue my itsy bitsy teensy tiny crawl up the bike lane towards the green light.  The cars to my left (in the lane for motorized traffic) are moving forward and picking up speed and passing me.  The motorcyclist starts signalling that he wants to return to that lane now that it's moving but the cars aren't having any of it.  Awwwwwwww.

The motorcyclist kindof weaves back and forth behind me.  I consider whether it's worth my while to miss the light and decide "probably not" so when I am within a few feet of the light I shift up and start in at a normal pace.  The motorcyclist (still making loud farting and growling noises) passes me in a cloud of blue black smoke and then forces his way back in with the cars.

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