I own the road

After 25 years of cycling in Montreal — I mean to work, not the Tour de l’Île — I figure I’ve earned the right to the road as much as anyone. (I take it as a personal insult that McGill decided to close its roads to bicycles, cutting off the lovely tail end of my daily commute.) No, I don’t stop for stop signs or red lights unless there’s traffic. Why should I? If I’m fool enough to cross when there is traffic, I’ll be the one to suffer.

In 25 years I’ve had one accident. I was riding down St-Urbain St. near des Pins Ave. when I was hit from behind. I went flying but the driver kept going, stopping only at the next red light, where witnesses hauled him out of his car. (A good thing he stops at reds.) I landed on my hip and couldn’t walk for two weeks. As I was recovering, I got a $50 ticket in the mail — for riding down the left side of a one-way street.

The road has changed for cyclists over that quarter century. On the plus side, bicycle paths now criss-cross the city. On the other hand, there are now thousands of Bixis clogging the paths. Bixis are a nice idea, but they are slow and appeal to a lot of hipsters who want a leisurely ride, listening to Arcade Fire on their headphones, but who don’t know, let alone respect, the cyclist’s code of conduct: Don’t pass on the right, signal your turns, and above all, protect yourself — say, by being able to hear the traffic around you!

So I tend to avoid the nice new bike paths until my favourite time of year, coming soon — after the Bixis have gone into hibernation, and before the snow falls, when the road is all mine.