LIttle Morning Joys

[Geonz]

(no, this is *not* quite in the same category as Coal City )

Sometimes the mornings are tender times, even if a little hurried.
I left in the late end of my departure window this morning, trying not to hurry. It's a soft, grey morning with the smell of damp spring soil that so many weekend gardeners have turned. Poppies, peonies, irises and promises of infinite color are peering from foliage and dark earth.
I'm only barely noticing that as I pedal down Race Street and anticipate my turn at four-way stop one and think "oh, fiddle," 'cause there's a cyclist behind me as I'm slowing. You know, cyclists in student-ville, who love to blast by you and hop a curb or two... and I'm planning on accelerating into the *left* lane and who knows *where* he'll be...
... what's this? as I press forward, he's STOPPING at the stop sign! Cars and bikes are doing the synchronized dance of getting where we're going... there's a communication between us all... and he's easing into that same left lane. I'm still a few lengths ahead as I stop and make my left turn, catch him stopping and signaling in the mirror, and I'm smiling, and then with just a few quick steady strokes he's moved around me and I'm really awake now. He's riding an old Trek, but riding with grace and power and not as if he's the only one who matters! I've got to stay with this one... and I can tell he's not used to being kept up with. I wish my speedometer worked! He even coasts over that bumpy spot ... and oh, joy, he's not going to make the traffic light (and no, he isn't going to run it) so I can even coast in and not be gasping when I get there.
Often traffic is like a giant elevator. You manage to check each other out but you avoid eye contact. Not this morning; we've already shared an instant of intimacy and he turns and smiles. “Good morning!” I nod and smile and the light turns green, and I let him take the lead 'cause he is stronger and it's fun to watch. We meet again at the next traffic light, He hops over to the bike path, which is rather odd 'cause this week they've torn up that bike path a hundred yards from here... and he turns right and he's gone, probably into a campus building for a final exam. It's nice to know we've got friends out there!

[DeniseGoldberg]

Sue -
Thanks for sharing that story of your commute. I am still amazed at the number of riders who do not acknowledge their fellow riders with a wave, a nod, or a hello. And I love hearing stories like this one.

--- Denise

[Jo-n-NY]

Hi Sue,

I also loved reading about your morning commute. The way you put your words together I thought I was reading from a book.

I have to admit that now that I am riding more roads, and not go on the bike path as much, I am seeing more "real" cyclists and more often than not I get a "hello" and or bikers wave.

I love it and grin from ear to ear. I feel like I am part of a real nice community.

Again, thank you for sharing ~ JoAnn

[ptsheridan]

Thank you for increasing my level of awarenss of the importance of hello and a wave. As a beginner cyclist, I am so focused on the ride and form that I don't always say hello. It's silly but even a wave right now throws me off balance. I never rode a bike as a child and am riding for the first time in my 40's.

Thanks also for sharing your story.

[Geonz]

Oh, a smile and a *nod* is generally my style, especially at an intersection! Maybe if the road's clear and I'm coasting steadily, I'll wave - and I've got a few (thousand) miles under my chamois. \
Couple years ago, two friends and I decided to Try The Thursday Ride together (a faster ride for all of us). If there are three of us, we haven't been dropped - we've formed our own group, right?
So, off we go... and coasting, almost to a stop, at the first intersection, my buddy sees a buddy driving by. He waves, she waves... and and wobbles and she DOES fall down... SPLAT! Nothing hurt but her pride... she'd even been telling him that she had surprised herself at how good a cyclist she was...