First day is for a few faux pas
Yesterday was the first day of Bike to Work Week. The Times Colonist’s Joanne Hatherly is pedalling along with many other commuters, and is blogging on her adventures.
People always talk about the stupid things other motorists or cyclists did, but why should I talk about others’ bad behaviour when I’m so adept at providing my own examples?
For instance on Friday, I found myself at eye-level with automobile headlights in the middle of a downtown intersection.
My bike to work that day had started with driving my car, with bike on rack, to a B.C. Transit park-andride.
It was going to be a hectic day, and as I drove, I calculated how to meet all my work deadlines. I calculated too much, because it preoccupied the part of my brain that should have told me “turn here,” at the off-ramp to the park-and-ride, and so I kept driving until I was only five minutes from work.
I was tempted to forget the bike ride, but reasoned it wouldn’t take any time to turn back. How bad could the traffic going out of Victoria be?
Worse than I thought, that’s how bad. I unloaded my bike from my car at the time I should have been walking through the Times Colonist’s doors.
I hit the Goose and pedalled like mad, arriving at Johnson Street just in time to see the Blue Bridge tilt upward, delaying me even more.
I did not dare look at my watch. When the bridge finally came down and the traffic railing went up, I bolted over the bridge with the rest of the cyclists, Victoria’s own mini-version of the Tour de France start. As I crossed Store Street, I heard a clatter.
Looking back, I saw the clip-on sunglasses specially fitted for my glasses were on the pavement in the intersection. I wheeled around into traffic and back into the intersection. It was when I plucked up my sunglasses and noticed all those bumpers and headlights facing me that I was touched with the epiphany that I am a stupid idiot.
I listened to C-FAX twice that day and both times callers to the open-line show started with “I was sitting in my truck/car at Johnson and Store when I saw this cyclist ….”
I cringed, and then, uncringed. The callers had two other examples of cyclists acting stupid at that intersection.
Misery loves company. Stupidity does, too.