Bike to Work Week 2011 - Day 2

I start a bit late today.  I had a meeting after my ride the night before and then popped into a birthday party after that.  It was a long night, and I didn’t get much sleep.  Maybe that’s why I’m running a bit late and feeling tired as I hop on my bike around 6:30 a.m. for the second day of Bike to Work Week.

It’s amazing what a ten-minute time difference can make in terms of who’s out and about in the early morning.   A couple miles into my ride, I start hitting school zones, and there are more kids on the sidewalk than yesterday morning.  There’s also more road traffic, including buses.  One of ‘em comes along right as I’m using the bus lane to avoid sidewalk strollers without merging fully onto the road.  It’s a slow-speed close call, with the bus’s back wall passing mere inches from my shoulder.  I don’t like being so near the giant hunk of metal on wheels.  It makes me acutely aware of how small and insubstantial I am on my bike.

The rest of the ride is uneventful, and except for feeling tired, I’ve enjoyed the commute.

I scan online media for my job, and my review this morning turns up a disturbing article in the local paper.  The National Weather Service has issued a wind advisory til 11 p.m. - 20-30 mph winds with gusts around 45-50 mph.  Yikes!  The previous night’s ride home was pretty brutal, and that forecast does not bode well.  I cringe as I read, and then post it on Facebook.

My post generates several offers of a ride home.  It’s tempting.  As the afternoon wears on, I’m still feeling tired and not relishing the prospect of struggling against Mother Nature.  One offer includes dinner, and I almost say yes.  I don’t, though, because I’ve set a goal for myself, and I want to see it through.  Plus, I have no plans after work, so does it really matter if I have to walk the bike home?  It’s only 6½ miles.  I’m from New England, so maybe it’s my Puritanical roots showing themselves when I think, “it’s good for you!”

As I get changed at the end of the day, I’m apprehensive.  When I roll outside and get going, I’m pleasantly surprised.  The winds aren’t blowing at all!  

I’m pedaling down a torn up sidewalk about two miles from home, and it’s like a driving test.  I’m weaving in between lampposts and industrial-sized trash cans and cardboard boxes, like a student driver navigates through orange cones.  In one instance, I’m navigating those same cones on my bike because they’re inexplicably scattered on the sidewalk.  Another time, I ride over what looks like a Persian carpet.  It’s folded roughly in half, like it fell off a moving truck. 

As I ride I notice the other non-car travelers: young kids on BMX bikes, men on slim 10-speeds who probably lost their licenses due to excessive DUIs, ambling day laborers wearing ball caps.  I wonder what they think of me as I pass by in my helmet and pink zip-up sweatshirt with ‘Boston’ printed across the front.  We are all a little bit out of the mainstream.  Ours is a car-centric society, particularly in Vegas where sidewalks suddenly disappear and bike lanes are a rarity.

I feel a bit of relief when I’m able to finish my ride on the suburban back streets.  There’s less traffic, and the sidewalks are nice.  I ride on the road without concern.  My body relaxes, and I feel like I can finally enjoy the trip. 

Day 2 is in the can.  I did it once again, and despite my earlier worries, it was pretty okay.