When I ride my bicycle in the city, I'm not sure which one makes me nervous, a mother crossing the street while texting, and pushing a baby stroller (with a baby in it!!!) without looking to her left and right, or a cluster of tourists cross the street while looking at the map and stop in the middle of the street to figure out which way to go, or a person fidgetting at the cross section and decides to cross the street when the light turns green to motorists.
Except on weekend, I prefer to ride on open road than riding in the city because in the city at every traffic light stops, no, no, scratch that, along any busy streets, people just simply cross the street with they eyes glued to the gadget in their hands. Why do we become more and more irresponsible for our own lives?
I had whined and complained a few times here of bad and rude drivers on the road. I should share my fortunate experience with fine, sensitive and kind hearted drivers too because there are many of them on the streets.
I'm grateful that everyday I come across these drivers on my way to work. Many of them make an effort slow down when they pass me on a narrow road where there is no bike path. thank you, thank you, thank you.
I can sum up the experience riding home from work today as joyful. It wasn't because I passed consecutively five traffic lights while they were green, or some motorists were more friendly and sensitive than usual, or texters on foot suddenly have more concern of their safety they look up from the gadget in their hands before they cross the street. Uhh...uhh....nothing of that sorts.
I'm fully aware that when I ride my bicycle out there on the streets I have no protection from cars, vans, buses and lorries. I have to skilfully ride my bicycle, folow the traffic laws, obey the road signs and light signals and respect other road users. I have to make myself visible-conspicious and alert all the times. I enjoy riding so much, I could burts with happiness when I am on my bicycle. Anyho, I've always made an effort to stay alert at ll the times.
Autoshop on Dorchester Avenue.
I used to get a little upset over inconsiderate and rude motorists who try to squeeze their way between other vehicles and a cyclist (me) on a bike lane.
Or I get annoyed over pedestarians sho simply jump in front of me to cross the street. But, like everybody else and anywhere else, no matter where I go, I'll come across these types of people.
Along a wide, smooth and lovely Dorchester Ave., I spotted a small pot hole which I carefully swerved away. It was right there and then it dawned to me that there are two types of holes I've come across when I ride my bicycle.
Potholes and assholes.
I couldn't help laughing quietly as I pedalled home. The idea of placing these two holes side by side was hillarious.
I could hear the wind howling outside. Short, short, short and long howling and followed by one long howl. The sound remind me of David Noughton's painful screaming as he turning into a werewolf.
And not only that, as I was sitting at my sewing machine I could see the naked oak tree branches ourtside my living room window lunged at each other. My thought was, "those branches look angry."
But, one huge motivation that propelled me to get up, changed into riding clothes was the bright sun outside. The sun light streamed and fell onto my working table, and that was it.
The one hour quick ride stretched into two hour ride when I took a turn on Boylston Street and kept riding until Boston Garden. I stopped to get a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee and sat outside the Park Street T stop enjoying the 51 degree warm afternoon.
It was so warm, the Hot Dog guy opened his cart.
On my way home on Huntington Ave., the sun light reflected an object that I thought one huge spider web over the small trees.
It turned out a sheet of net thrown over the trees.
I'm surprised and glad at the same time that I've been riding a lot this month. In New England, it is not unusual to wake up one morning in December and find out that I don't need a hat, gloves and winter jacket to go out, but to have 50+ degree at least twice a week is pure joy.
Last month, I was thinking to take my bike for tuning up thinking that the less friendly December weather would be too cold for me too ride, but I was wrong. And I'm glad I was wrong, because I still can enjoy my bicycle riding.
Riding a bicycle in winter without balaclava is brutal. As the day getting shorter and the temp. keep dropping down, I'm getting more comfortable riding in a cold. I enjoy the crispy air as I pedal on the street.
I didn't think twice when I saw balaclava at Marshalls three weeks ago. The price was less than half of normal price if I bought it at sport store. And wearing balaclava in this weahter makes want to continue to ride until it gets too cold.
The temperature has dipped a bit but not too cold that I find riding my bike these days is exhilarating. Despite the extra layer of long sleeves shirt, down vest and a scarf, I'm still comfortable after one hour ride. The only problem is I need a light fabric to cover the lower part of my face when I ride on a windy day.
I've seen some bike messengers have their face covered from nose down to neck. Perhaps that will help to shield my face from windy day.
I've seen this type of foolish action before from a pedestrians point of view, but now that I've been riding everyday, I see these individuals foolishness could put myself in danger too. If you ever stand on either side of Tremont Street at Park Street subway station you must have seen two groups of people on the feet act. The first group always wait until the WALK sign comes up before they cross the street.
And the second group just simply cross the street without waiting the WALK sign even they see the cars speeding down toward them. Most of them don't even bother to look up from their gadgets in their hands, or some of them when they keep talking on their cells while they cross the street.
Now, that I ride a lot, I find the second group is not only foolish but dangerously foolish because their behavior can put me into dangerous situation. One of these days, go up to intersection Tremont Street/Boylston Street. The other day, I was on my bike on Boylston Street waiting to cross Tremont Street. The green light came on, but the people were still crossing streets from all sides. The scene reminded me of the Walking Dead series where the zombies walked in all directions.
I know I'm going to miss riding my Cannondale when the day is too cold and the road is too icy to ride. Since the day Dianne brought it over in her truck to my place, I can count the days that I take a subway.
I ride to the library, to campus, running errands and to grocery shopping which is the biggest challenge that I decided to break down the list into three separate days. It sound tedious, but I enjoy riding so much, I don't see heading to supermarket three days in a row as tedious.
There is a sense of freedom when I'm riding Cannondale. I cannot deny that riding Schwinn cruiser has been a lot of fun. It was a laid-back riding experience. I sat with upright posture and the same time I knew it would be sort of soft riding.
The fun part about riding my Schwinn cruiser was the skirts!!! Yes, I loved wearing skirts and dresses when I rode my cruiser. I had Indian glass bracelets to match the color of my skirts and my shoes. Once, last summer, I think it was in Ramadan month, I had two dozens of red/pink glass bracelets on my left wrist. I was waiting for green light at Melnea Cass Blvd. and Mass. Ave., a woman in red pick up truck on my left asked me where I bought the bracelets from.
"I love your beutiful bracelets. Where did you get em' from?"
"An Indian store called Shalimar in Central Square." I told her.
Now, I put away Schwinn for a break, perhaps until next summer while I'm enjoying Cannondale.
The other day, on my way home from work, I was about six or seven wheels behind a girl on her bicycle on Dorchester Avenue. Her helmet caught my attention. The helmet didn't look goofy like any bicycle helmets, like the one on my head. Her helmet reminded of equatrian hats. In other word. It was errr...., cute (word I've been successfuly avoiding until today).
When the light turned red, I rode up next to her and commented on her helmet.
"Thank you," she said, "I ride horses."
"Aaaahhhhh, you look cool."
And this morning, while waiting for the light to turn gree on Mass Ave. near Symphony Hall, I saw a guy on his bike wearing a helmet with a dove on his helmet. I kid you not. It was a real size dove, standing on its two feet on the guy's helmet.
But I don't think it was real dove though because the dove stood still on his helmet as he sped up on Huntington Avenue. Unless the darn bird was trained, or it was drugged. Then it would be another story.
Hopefully I will see him again and see if the dove is still on his helmet.
I've seen some creative bicyclists with their decorated their helmets with feathers, horns and decorative felts. Now, I'm thinking about my helmet..............