Coming down the hill just past the hairpin in my absolute favorite stretch of Southern Indiana I came along these renegade cows that took over this mobile home.

Round, shallow-drop handlebars. The beauty of round is its infinite hand position possibilities, unlike the circumscribed limitations of ergonomic drops. And shallow? Who doesn’t want nearness to their levers and tops? For those who say “…but my wrists hit the bar when I sprint” I reply, “Move your wrists out of the way.” Show up to a ride with ergo bars and you’ll get a look here akin to wearing a Camelbak. Bars that flare out at the drops? You might as well arrive with clip-ons or try to take that phone call once we roll. When I’m king bars will be round, shallow, and never wider than 40cm and I think maybe we’ll start by refusing to sell anything else.

I love this type snottiness, elitism, or whatever you want to call it. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes ever attributed to Stephen Metcalfe – “Because let’s face it, only one thing is more incorrigible than my snobbery, people, and that’s your indefensibly crappy taste in music.” I use it all the time, it works for so many things – beer, coffee, music, and bikes of course.

Since I bought the CAAD9 back in November I always thought the bars felt wide. I attributed it to being used to the Bianchi which I knew had narrow bars. When you buy a 60cm bike off the rack its just not gonna come with narrow bars. One day after a ride I took the liberty to measure my reach and surprisingly it was about 40cm on the nose. I checked my Azuki and it was too. After confirmation at the LBS of my unconventional measuring methods I made the arrangements to get new bars and finally got the switch on Saturday night. Mr. Prestavalve did the mounting and the taping so I can take no credit for the fine taping job.

Narrow Width – 40cm

Shallow Drop

Not to mention the sweet fi’zi:k microtex Bar Tape that is feels just perfect to hands that prefer to ride sans gloves.

How’s the ride? Perfect…like being home after 800 miles of “this doesn’t feel just quite right…”. I took a 20 mile lunch ride today with some flats and some climbs and like the new setup a lot. Tomorrow I’ll be left to just think about it though as work will prevent me from riding. I hope this weather holds for Thurs/Fri.

It invariably makes me think of the Cycling Classics such as last weekend’s Gent-Wevelgem, this weekend’s Tour of Flanders and of course Paris Roubaix in two weeks. These thoughts were especially on my mind as I set out from home on Sunday morning. I sat and then paced helplessly on Saturday as we experienced the finest weather of the year. My day for riding was to be Sunday with a forecast of cold, rain, wind, and the actual killer – thunderstorms. Would it be my luck to wait for Sunday only to not be able to ride?

I woke up and tended to all I needed to get done prior to departure – feeding children, dressing them, picking older brother up from a sleepover, etc. All through the morning checking various forecasts. TV indicated rain and such but probably no thunderstorms…that was enough for me. I kitted up, embro’d up, pumped tires and hit the road. Two omissions – no lights of any type, and what would prove to be the worst – no chamois cream.

I met my friend Michael at what seems to be the primary ride departure zone of the Heine Brothers at Eastern and Bardstown. We had 86 miles planned heading way out into Oldham County and back. It was actually the first time I’ve ridden all the way across River Road into Oldham as I normally start from my folks house in the middle of it. This is the route I planned for. I had some concerns about crossing the old one lane bridge that is closed to AUTO traffic but I thought we could still get through.

Highlands to Goshen – went well. Soft sprinkle across River Road, decided to climb out on Wolf Pen Branch and didn’t even look at the aforementioned bridge crossing although we went right by it. Fast drop into crowded Prospect and the rain really picked up. After stopping on Rose Island Road we thought it a good idea to actually put on the rain gear we brought. I wore my favorite wool jersey and covered it with a promo Continental rain jacket I got as a “gimmie” from a local shop. Pretty ugly but pretty effective. It was not to come off until I got home.

Climb 1 – The Backside of Goshen Lane – after strolling out river flatlands we turned the corner up this strong climb. It was nice to try it with warmed-up legs as opposed to the stone cold condition I usually am in.

US 42 to Westport – We turned onto US 42 for the second time and headed out once again following stretches of the Louisville Ironman course. This is 11 straight but rolling miles. It was here I realized I was riding with a very complimentary rider. Many times in the stretch I end up ahead of my companion(s). Every time I looked back he was right on my wheel. It was to be this way the whole day. It is hard to overstate how much this can improve the riding. I enjoy riding with all types but I think I would take this anytime.

Climb 2 – Out of Westport – Coming out of Westport on 524 is a pretty saucy climb. I had some issues with drivetrain and kept slipping but I stayed in the big ring the rest of the day and it did fine there some maybe its the small chainring. This put us on 42 once again and out to the only planned rest stop at the only gas station in 20 miles that is open on Sunday. We refueled, filled bottles, and stood around with our wet legs burning with the awakened liniment. We were 54 miles in and averaging a healthy 18 mph.

Old Sligo Road and others into Buckner – The weather looked pretty crappy at this point but it turned out to be mostly show. I knew from experience that Old Sligo was a brutal road. With 50 miles already in it was even worse. Highway 53 out of LaGrange was as menacing as always (for my money much worse than US 42) Then the first navigational error crept in – the maps indicated you can get over to 393 via Finley Mill road. I never saw the road and we ended up in Buckner. No big deal but the 15 miles to rejoin 393 were a beating and we made a brief stop to catch up from that.

Cedar Point & Old Zaring Although I grew up in this area I had never heard it referred to as “Little Appalachia” until I started riding bikes. It may not be mountainous but in the continuation of the days theme it rolled up and down for sure. We had our only run in with a dog on Old Zaring. It was running along a fence line and we thought it was cool but then out it came! Startled the two of us but laid off quickly.

Climb 3 – Covered Bridge Road – This road actually has a climb in the beginning and a big one at the end. It is maybe the finest road in the area for riding from a pure visual standpoint. It is simply beautiful, even in overcast, rainy muck. Every time I have come through on a bike I have turned off at Locke Lane. Today had us going all the way to US 42 (again) to begin the return home. It is quite a climb at that stage in the day and we took a bit of a rest at the Five Star in Prospect. In an odd bit of coincidence we ran into my father at the store…kinda funny.

Coming out of Prospect – we headed back out River Road toward home only to find the maybe passable bridge to be decidedly not passable. It was covered with fencing and there happened to be a dude there as well. At this point we were feeling pretty sure of earning a century for the day as we back tracked into Prospect to exit via 42. The ugly slog up the hill out of Prospect to Wolf Pen Branch was the most harrowing piece of riding for the day. Shit conditions, a strong hill and at least one way-too-close-for-comfort pass. I was glad to turn off for sure.

Last Climb – Lime Kiln Road – Instead of taking River Road all the way in I had elected to come up through the ritzy part of town into St Matthews. While this really is “no hill for a climber” the miles and climbing had taken its toll. We headed up and out 42 to bridge onto Rudy Lane and start making the way to the park.

The park and home… – at this point our internal mileage calculators were working and determined we might end up slightly short of a century and greedily to a lap in Cherokee Park to ensure the monument was reached. We split after this and I had to confront one last hill going up Trevillian towards the zoo. As I got off the bike I felt hobbled. I’m sure I was walking funny and not to mention soaking wet.

Being the kind husband I am I patiently waited before showering so my wife could get the nap I promised after her workday. I sat playing with the kids, legs burning, body aching and reveled in my accomplishment for the day:

This is the kind of hardman shit we live for right? The conditions certainly were “Belgie” for the day. That crust of dirt, sand, cinders, and God knows what left stuck to my legs…103 miles in the shit, 6,200 feet of climbing, 6 hours on the bike when most people avoided the outside for the day. Many thanks to Michael who made for a great day in the saddle and perhaps my favorite ride to date.

I parked and began various stages of getting ready – put the bike together, pump tires, arm warmers, get race numbers, add-on the 4/5 race, pin numbers on, etc. I have been talking all week and met up with the locust who kindly shared some Winston’s embrocation for the brisk morning. I set off to take a few laps prior to the race start and hit one with a guy I went to school with, and two laps with Mr. Wilson. This made for 9 o’clock and off we went.

I had been given the impression that this Cat 5 race (as opposed to last year with only a 4/5) would be maybe not too fast, and since so early in the season maybe a little sloppy and disorganized…not so. This course starts with a strong downhill right away and then turns left into a slight but selecting climb. My biggest concerns coming into the race were riding in a pack, and two tight turns around the 2/3rds area. In the first lap I settled toward the middle of the pack as I felt it out. I did have a guy in front of me take a funny line in a curve and I felt quite close to going off the road but I made it through and that was the worst. The finish to the race was uphill and as we crossed the line I was able to move up to the front group pretty easily. I followed that around and then in the third lap on the selecting climb I found my self on the outside line charging to the front. All of the sudden I was leading the race but absolutely could not hold as we dropped back down into the technical section. That was tactical error one, number two came shortly thereafter when I was unable to hold the last wheel of the group and I was not to see contact again with that bunch. I found my self kind of strung out and alone and I finished the race alone. I made pretty good time and finished somewhere toward the top third of the 50 racers.

On Friday I made a visit to one of my favorite LBS’s and looking for pre-race information. They suggested I add the 4/5 race as well and just get in there for extra experience and fitness building. Sounded good to me and I did so. I didn’t really think through that it would only be a 10 minute cool down between but so it goes. I sucked down a clif bar and got back in the mix. I started in the back of a full 75 rider field. I never made contact with the front group this time but I wasn’t really expecting to do so anyhow. I did once again manage to stay toward the front third of this 8 lap race. Around the third lap I paired up with a guy who I surmised was named Ronnie from the periodic cheering he got. It took some time and him observing that I was grabbing his wheel on the downhills after I was pulling the hills but we started working together some and finished the race together. The bell lap came around and it felt like Ronnie and I were marking each other. As we came to the uphill finish we both came out of the saddle and then all of the sudden the sprint was on! I thought I went a tad early but clamped down and took it by a wheel. That was really exciting for sure. We gave each other congrats and he reached out to shake my hand. I must give props again to Ben W. as well as Tim C. of the Twin Spires team. They cheered/heckled me every lap of that race. It makes a big difference to hear that as you come around.

Also my boss/friend Billy came out and cheered me on through the first race. He also brought his camera and sent me some picks. Here I am trying to dig deep after the third lap and have been gapped:

All in all I am very pleased at my first day of racing. I went into it looking for the experience and hoped to finish in the upper third which I did. It confirmed what I mostly knew already – endurance-good, climbing-pretty good, speed-needs work.

I am going to start working the logistic angles right away and see if I can make the race next Saturday in Lexington.

The weathermen have been predicting rain and thunderstorms for days to no avail. Each day the sun peeks out and gets it done. Today was looking like it would finally be the day. I swung by the LBS and picked up some Qoleum embrocation in the “Hot” style to give it a shot. I mean I didn’t shave my legs for nothin’…right? I am intending to use it tomorrow for my first bike race and the weather is looking to be pretty “Belgie”. I slathered it on, put on my favorite wooly jersey jersey and hit road.

About halfway into the ride the rain started. I pulled over and put my phone in a bag and kept after it. I really don’t mind riding in the rain. It leads me to a decided feeling of some sort of warped accomplishment. Like – “look at me, I’m so tough” (say this out loud in a high-pitched, mocking voice – that’s what my wife will do to me).

I put “mud guards” (here’s why I no longer refer to them as fenders) on this bike a month or two ago and they have served me well as the snow melted off the roads and led to consistent spraying. This was the first opportunity I have had to really ride in the rain. Wow. Much better. I got wet of course, but no telltale spray up the back, no soaking wet chamois in 2 minutes, just generally better. Not to mention the bike was much cleaner when I finished.

I didn’t really notice the embro on the ride although I must say my legs were not cold…at all. Compared to my hands (which is not really fair) they were significantly warmer. I got my first indication of what was to come when I stopped at a light about 5 minutes from the end of the ride. Seemed like my legs were heating up a tad. After I returned and started wiping off the bike the real burn came on big time. Funny almost, but I hit the shower armed with dish soap to try and cut it off – to no avail. Slowly and surely after about an hour it fizzled out. Good to know for tomorrow.

Here is the post ride return: Wet but with significantly improved attitude

As I mentioned tomorrow will be my first bike race. I feel good about my training so far. I have received lots of good advice and I am ready for it…I hope.

I have amassed 5000 miles since I started riding a year and a half ago and 4000 this year alone. I have always tried to ride smartly and follow the cardinal rules of being seen and acting predictably. I was dressed in a bright yellow jacket and traveling properly in the road.

Wednesdays are my travel day. Nearly every Wednesday for the last four years I have spent in Chicago. I let myself be talked out of this week because of the weather. The immortal words of Dante from “Clerks” rang through my head more than once – “I’m not even supposed to be here!”

I had skipped riding on Tuesday due to rain and not being able to get my rollers adjusted properly to use them in time. This left me weary and frustrated and I was determined to ride Wednesday. The temps were fine and I was suitably dressed but the wind was oppressive – 15-20 mph and swirling. I decided to use my reasonably short Edwardsville route which goes out IN 62 – Corydon Pike. As I made my way over to 62 I thought about turning back as I could feel the wind trying to push me over in a way I have never experienced. I kept going knowing that once I got to the Edwardsville climb the wind would be more or less negated. I started out the rather flat opening section in to a serious headwind trying like hell and getting about 13-14 mph. I saw a fast moving small pickup truck coming in hot on my right side. He was coming down a hill on a side street looking to turn left at a STOP SIGN. He failed to stop and turned right in front of me. I saw what was happening and started to bail out to the right, I didn’t make it and slammed into the front quarter panel of the truck. I was already leaning away from the truck and so I went straight down and away from the vehicle. I hit my forehead in my eyebrow and my right shin probably on the downtube. I was able to jump right up with adrenaline and the driver got right out to help me. It should be said that he began apologizing immediately, asking if I was OK and clearly angry with himself for his carelessness. He said right up front that he should have seen me and he couldn’t believe he didn’t. There was no anti-cyclist screed and any attempt to blame me for not being on a sidewalk or something. I told him I understood and accepted his offer to sit on the tailgate while we waited for the cops.

At this point the jitters started to set in. As most of us do I have no shortage of things to live for. Not only was my front wheel smashed but so to was any illusion I might have that I was not vulnerable. In fact as I sat there that is what I thought of the most – being out on a bike really leaves you exposed. I thought a lot about having to tell my wife, my mom, and my dad. I imagined impassioned plea’s to quit riding on the road, do something safer. Then reality kicked into my head – I can not stop riding on the road. I love it. I have never loved another activity as much. When I watched the Hincapie movie and they asked him how he wanted to be remembered I knew what he would say before he said it. It went: 1. – a great father, 2. – an excellent husband, and 3. – a pretty good cyclist. I am paraphrasing his words but that is the gist of it and how I feel about myself as well.

In the end he gave me a ride back to work. The bike has been fixed, the helmet will be replaced, the insurance company is giving me some extra money for no apparent reason (OK, I know why they are) which will go toward some fantastic wool clothing, and I am back to riding. The man who hit me even went so far as to call and check on me later that day…a nice touch I think.

I have always tried to keep a healthy fear in my mind of the dangers of road riding. This has of course added to that fear. It is not hard to see that a few seconds could have made a huge difference either way. I feel very lucky to have come out of this relatively unscathed. I doubt but hope someone will read this that thinks that cyclists are a menace and always at fault and maybe change their mind some…

Meanwhile, keep your eyes peeled while driving around in your car or on your bike.

Right before I went to get dressed for riding the USPS showed with a new eBay purchase – some vintage wool in bright orange. Eschewing any sort of washing or whatever I just put that baby right on. Fit was good although a little long.

The LBC put on a Time Trial as a part of their Mad Dog Stage Race. I badly wanted to make it out to compare my climbing with a group who I know has serious fitness. Alas, the babysitting angle did not allow for me to join. Sunday night they posted the times and that left me thinking I could still time myself and compare. The winners finished in about 7:30, mid-range was 9:00, and the later finishers 11-12:00. Moser Knob is a regular climb for me and part of a ride I refer to as “Buck’s Ride” (my friend Tim D’s Uncle Buck lives up there). Here is the route:

It was about a 6 miles to the start of the TT. I tried taking it relatively easy but still put enough out for a decent warm up. The hill itself is a little less than a mile and there was a half mile lead up. Its tempting to really throw down in the lead up but the initial pitch up is big one. I rode up in what I felt was representative of my normal climb. I “finished” at 8:57 which would have had me solidly in the middle of the pack. I am pretty pleased with this time, it helps me set a baseline and have something to compare against.

The rest of the ride was scenic and pretty normal. I finished over 17mph which is about right. Today will be my last day to ride for a bit as I am headed out traveling and selling. Looks like a Blunk Knob climb may be the order of the day.

The long weekend was looking like a no-go for riding for me…then my loving Mother called and asked if I wanted her to watch the children so I could ride…uh yeah.

I thought little of the sprinkling rain as I drove out. I don’t mind a little rain and when in my situation you take what you can get. On a side note – I didn’t even have my own bike. I popped my third or forth spoke in about three weeks on my Thursday afternoon commute home and took the wheel in to OYLC for complete a re-lacing. This left me “stranded” without a bike since my car was at work. Fortunately my friend and cycling benefactor Tim loaned me the RB-1 I previously rode and fell in love with bike riding on. Hilarity ensued when I recalled it doesn’t exactly fit me right. Oh well…it got it done – and with style I may add.

So it came time to set out around 11. There was a steady sprinkle still going. By the time I meander through the neighborhoods to US 42 it was a full rain. I rode 7-8 miles in that and the rain let off for a bit. As I dropped into Westport it came back. It was the first cycle of what I termed “rolling rain”. Just like rolling hills it would come on and then back off. It would be about 15 minutes on and 5-10 off. A few times I felt what may have been a slight bit of hail. I can only imagine some of the conversations in the cars that passed me in full downpour. I wasn’t dressed poorly per se but far from in a rain suit. I stayed wet the entire ride and the worst part really is the shoes. I hate to feel water sloshing back and forth in my shoes. I don’t really have an technical rain gear anyway.

The route itself was a ‘beaut. I planned it out a few weeks ago and it encompassed several roads I have used heavily in my rides out of the folks house. In my head I had it as a circumnavigation of Oldham County. The idea was to get as close to the edge of the county without going over. Here is the route:

The middle section was the only portion I wasn’t familiar with. Poor planning with my cue sheet left it quite soaked and I had to struggle with it and treat it like the “precious” to get through to Crestwood where I could navigate back home. I stopped in LaGrange at the halfway point and slogged into the local Subway for food, water, and sports drink. They probably though it was odd I chose to eat out side on a curb instead of stinking it up on the inside. I finally outpaced the rain in LaGrange and I did not see any more of it. Coming out on Hwy. 53 some redneck lady yelled at me for no apparent reason – they sure didn’t slow down or anything. Hwy 53 was the worst stretch I encountered but it was only a few miles before I turned off back to farm roads and low traffic.

I had to take two navigational hunches based on the disintegrating integrity of my cue sheet. Both turned out to be correct and once I had to resort to stopping to review a flyer on a “for sale” reality sign to confirm what road I was on. Why do the never want to give those names on street signs? I came into Crestwood and noticed I was making good time – I was up over 18mph with only 12 miles to go. Hwy 329 make you climb a few times but once you pass the quarry the run to the old Boy Scout camp is made for hauling. My legs still felt good as I began to climb back out via Lock Lane and Mayo Lane to the river. The end of Mayo lane has as stout of a climb as you could ask for especially at the tail end of an effort. I chased that with the ascent of 1793 to land back at my folks house – tired but happy.

In many ways I felt triumphant and proud of my effort. The first 30 miles in the rain would have turned many people back. I willed my way through it hoping that end would justify the means. I can tell you that it did…for sure.

I started the week with the fourth ride of The River City Cycling Society dubbed the Paris-Redux or the hell of the ‘Ville. Both very tongue in cheek appropriations of the Classic Paris-Roubaix road race held in Northern France each Easter. The race’s claim to fame outside of its longevity are several stretches of cobblestones or “pave” to the French. Over the years as more roads have become paved the race organizers have come to build the race around the cobbled sections by stitching the course together in a way to include as many sections as possible. Tim sought to recreate this by surveying the locations of many brick lined alleyways of Louisville. It turns out there are quite a few in the Highlands, Downtown and Crescent Hill. When Sunday arrived it did not disappoint…well not Tim at least. The weather toyed around heading into the 1:00 start time but when that time came it was raining pretty good. I made my way to the start point and managed to get all the way wet by the time I arrived. Comments on the RCCS site indicated a pretty good turnout but the weather whittled it down to 7 hearty souls total. We set out and encountered our first mechanical pretty quickly. The bricks shook a rear wheel loose pretty quick. A survey of kits flushed out the 15mm wrench needed to put it back on line. We paraded through some swampy back alleys, lost a water bottle (retrieved it-thank you) and headed toward the river downtown to find one true section of honest to goodness cobblestones to ride across. Inbound I blew my rear tire. Interestingly enough after racking up almost 2000 miles I had never had an on the road flat. No problem, I was prepared with an extra tube, a pump, and the requisite skills to change the tire. At this point we were getting rained on pretty heavy and glasses became pretty hard to use and complicated the issues for sure. As I put the back tire on Tim asked me if I had swept the tire for the puncture. I had not as I figured it was likely a pinch-flat. That was quite a mistake and one I do not intend to repeat. About 200 feet after re-starting I was flat again. This time I found the shard of glass responsible. Tim loaned me a tube, I danced the dance again, and off we went. This left me a little gun shy the rest of the ride about tires but I had no further problems. As we arrived at Rowan street to ride the real cobbles a gentleman in our party overlooked a puddle covering a gaping hole and took an absolute header into the ground. It provided the most convincing helmet commercial I have ever seen. He was able to get up and change his own busted tire. He rode on for a bit but bailed towards home – understandably shaken up. From there we made our way into Crescent Hill, into Cherokee Park and back to the Highlands. We had an odd flat coming through the park as Dave had to make a change as we waited to come out of the park. The second to last alleyway was real nice brick riding. We then said goodbye at the Mid City Mall as we were over on time, and wet to the core. I had a pleasant ride back home chatting with Todd as we went home.

Monday’s weather was no improvement and so I thought I would ride the rollers for a good 15-20 miles and stay inside. I absolutely did not have it. I could not will myself past 6 miles or so before quitting. It was disheartening and still enough to leave me completely soaked with sweat and highly irritated.

Tuesday found me out for a ride with my new work riding partner on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. I had sneaked a ride over to the sister plant in the morning and was sitting only about 18-19 miles away from completing my 2000th mile since I started riding last July. We set out toward Utica Pike which gives lots of options on total ride length. As we came across the river and made the turn at Jeff Boat to head out on the open road we were really getting into stride when we crossed the flood wall and were greeted by the tell-tale hiss of a blown tire. It was Tim’s this time, not mine. At this point I was becoming quite the expert on tire changes. We got going again but some rain had moved in on us along with a stout headwind after we made the turnaround point. Then the hail started…it was quite a stinger on my bare hands and Tim’s bare legs. It gave up reasonably quickly as we made our way through the wind and back to the office. Close to the end I crossed the goal of the day and crested 2000 miles. I am quite pleased and I guess proud of myself for sticking with this for so long. I love it like no “exercise program” I have ever attempted. It is obviously so much more than that.

I rode Thursday and late Friday as well, but more of those rides to come.

March has been a great month for riding around on the bike. I’ve had a great group ride, 2 lunchtime epics, and a host of regular lunch rides. I have been able to get out on 14 of the 24 days so far. The weather has ranged from bundled up in wool to shorts and a t-shirt. I have all but abandoned my gloves for the year as I have decided I much prefer riding with bare hands. There is something about the visceral feel of the hands on the grips that I find very appealing.

One upgrade I made this month was to switch to clipless pedals. I limped into this position slowly moving towards it by first buying shoes on ebay and then a few weeks later finally buying the pedals. I went with Crank Brothers Candy C pedals. My research indicated they should be a good one to learn on. I have found them easy to clip into and they have enough base to use without proper shoes or if clipping in is not going so hot. I don’t know if it is the pedals or just a continued increase in fitness/form but my average times have really climbed in March. I finished at around 17 MPH average yesterday which is up from around 15-15.5. It is a palpable change and it pleases me in my pursuit of 1 hour lunchtime rides. My weight has also continued to fall. When I got around to weighing myself last weekend I found myself down around 175 – the lowest weight I can recall in my adult life. I am very fortunate to have a metabolism that can be activated with exercise. I am simply in love with riding a bike. It’s interesting to watch friends and family reacting to by desire to ride as much as possible. I also started riding over to our sister plant at work instead of driving when I can. It pads my mileage and makes for a nice break. I will probably curtail it as the weather heats up as it can put a stink on you pretty quick.

There is an emerging group of frustrated folks who are dedicated to using bicycles as much as possible to get around town. Louisville is a nice city but can present many challenges and obstructions to those who wish to do as above. It is especially hard on those living on the outside of the 264 interstate ring around the city. They are promoting cycling using a great slogan “We are not blocking traffic, We are traffic”. I really like that. I had two good examples of how it can all work a few weeks ago. The first was at this intersection of Randolph and Indiana 62:

View Larger Map

This is a tricky light that doesn’t like to change for bike riders. I need to go straight to head towards the river. I position myself to the right of the turn left/go straight lane and usually have to wait for a car. It is not advisable to go anyway because people haul ass and the right side approach is blind. My position can block people how simply want to turn right and it can be the cause of impatient stares and sometimes honking. As I waited a car engaged the light changing mechanism to my left and a lady calmly waited for it to turn so I could clear the intersection and she could go on, it cost her 20 seconds.

Thirty minutes later I was returning to work and got behing a truck coming up 4th street in New Albany. As we crossed the last street before Culbertson it became clear the he needed to back into a loading dock. I stopped and waited, not trying to squeak by in the small space in front of his truck, just as I would of had to do if in a car. He noticed my simple gesture, and gave me the ubiquitous head-nod. With that I went on my way. It cost me 20 seconds.

I really don’t think it should take that much for us to all co-exist. Maybe a little peace, love, and understanding? Probably just a little patience…