Spring loaded
I actually look forward to cycling through the streets and paths around the nation’s capital at this time of the year, gliding past the Cherry Blossoms along the Potomac against the backdrop of the proudly erect Washington Monument. I can even stomach the fitwits that fly past me in their matching cycling outfits and bikes, nearly knocking me off the path without so much as an "excuse me" or "get outta the way" to acknowledge there are others who also have a right to the road.
But spring also brings out the tourists, who present a much greater risk. For some reason, they seem to believe that the bike lanes are meant solely for a staging platform for their picture-snapping efforts. I'd never begrudge anyone the right to grab a great shot in DC -- by far one of the most photogenic cities in the US. But no photographer has the right to stand right in the middle of a marked cycling roadway to get a picture. It's more than rude, it's stupid and dangerous -- like standing out in in the middle of the busy street for a selfie.
Like drivers on a road, bikers in those lanes expect to be able to move right along -- just as pedestrians expect to walk safely on a sidewalk. I've seen plenty of bikers use sidewalks as their own cycling paths -- more risky, rude and stupid business.
Once, I was cycling on Washington downtown street, following street laws and going legally with traffic, when this car swerved close past me and started honking madly at me -- only to stop at a red light 20 feet ahead. Never shy, I pulled up to the passenger side window to see some 20-something alpha-office-male type at the wheel and I'm guessing either his wife or significant other next to him.
"What's your problem?" I yelled over the traffic noise.
"Why don't you get off the road?"
"I've got more legal right to be here than you do,"
"Use the bike path."
"Open your eyes -- there are no bike paths."
He pointed at the sidewalk and said, "That's a bike path."
I had to laugh. "That IS a sidewalk. It's meant for people to WALK on. If you don't know the difference between a sidewalk and a bike path, you probably shouldn't be driving." Then I looked at the passenger, "I feel sorry for you, to be with such a twit."
Nowadays, I tend to keep my mouth shut more often – more folks seem to be packing guns now, and sound like they’re more ready to use them.
The new danger I see are the electric bikes, which can go about as fast as motorcycles -- or even cars -- on city streets, without being held to the same safety measures. The other day I was cycling to an office meeting from the Pentagon and made a completely legal right turn with a path that took me to the left-hand side of a one-way street. This e-bike whipped around the same corner right after I did -- and turned right into me, planting his front wheel into my ankle, leaving me hobbling the rest of my day. This 60-plus version of me doesn't bounce back quite as fast as the 40-plus model.
The proliferation of e-bikes is also making it harder to find a parking-locking spot for my ride. I always try to find one near a Starbucks or coffee shop, so I can use the restroom to change my duds into something more office friendly. The downtown Starbucks shops often have a baby-changing station that makes such quick-changes easier. It may sound like a pain -- but it beats taking the subway. And I can tell you, some folks should change their clothes after taking a summer Metro ride.
One time, I had to meet an attaché from the Japanese embassy at a coffee shop downtown and arrived a tad too late to change beforehand. He was standing next to his black limo outside, right next to the bike rack. I rode up and dismounted my bike right next to him. Not recognizing me with my cycling duds and shades, he jumped -- startled. His driver-bodyguard quickly stepped toward me, and I yanked off my helmet for a timely reveal.
"Ah, Mister Mike - I did not know you would be coming by bike," the attaché said.
No better way to get around -- any other mode would just be boring. Until, that is, I learn how to paddle my packraft up and down the Potomac.
First, though, I need to learn how to battle 25-knot winds gusting me and my Caribou across Motts Run Reservoir closer to home... but that's a story for my next Outpost.