A challenging few days

Please excuse all the little tangents in this post. I thought about editing them out and decided to leave them so you can better see how busy and scattered I've been.

I'm heading out for DALMAC before the sun rises Wedenesday morning. This trip is unlike any other travel I've done before. Not only will I be biking long miles for five days strait (Lansing to Mt Pleasant to McBain to Elk Rapids to Petoskey to Mackinaw City), I'll also be camping. I've been camping with Buster a few times, but never a progressive camp where you have to tear down, move to a new location, and set up again each day. And I've done only one other multi-day bike trip. That was two days riding in California's Russian River Valley with a really wonderful friend that I don't see nearly enough of. She was a bridesmaid at my wedding and that trip was a bit of a bachelorette party with a touch less drinking and a lot more exercise than normally called for at such events.

That's us at Hop Kiln. We stayed in a great little Inn and had a wonderful time. But back to the point. A multi-day bike trip combined with camping is a new experience for me.

I'm a little bit of a nervous traveler. I spend days before any trip thinking about what I need to pack and gathering things and making sure things at home are taken care of and generally preparing. I'm even worse when it's some new kind of trip. So, I'm very very excited about DALMAC and I've been stressing myself out a little trying to get my things together and get ready to be gone from home and work for a week. I've also been trying to ride my bicycle as much as possible. So I've had a pretty packed schedule for the last couple weeks.

In the midst of my DALMAC preparation, I've had some fun family things to do. My challenging few days started out with some family friends in Bloomfield. They have a very nice house with a beautiful swimming pool and they invited us and the K's for a mid-week BBQ and pool party. BK was in town from San Francisco with her adorable daughter. I don't see them nearly often enough and BK is the big sister I never had. So I took half the day off to go play with my family.

I had a really nice time swimming with the girls and talking with BK and everyone else. I wish I would have stayed for the whole thing!

I left the party a bit early so I could meet up with the aabts in Plymouth for a ride on Hines Drive. As I was pulling out of the the neighborhood, one of these:


driving one of these:


was stopped at the stop sign in front of me trying to make a left hand turn in rush hour traffic. It was taking an awful long time for traffic to clear and he got frustrated. So he threw the giant SUV in reverse and backed strait into my poor little Ford Escort without a single glance in the rearview. (ok, the driver was a little older than the one depicted above, but not much.) We were on a residential street and I keep wondering, what if it wasn't my little escort, but somebody's dog, or worse yet, a child that he blindly backed into? It makes me a a little sick. And frankly, I must be getting old because it also makes me question the wisdom of allowing 16-yr-olds to operate dangerous machines.

In any case, now I have to deal with this:


That looks minor, but it's nearly $1500 in body damage to bumper and hood. On top of that, the car now sounds like someone tore the muffler off. My trustworthy mechanic (I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but Fox Auto on Dexter Rd in Ann Arbor is fantastic) took one listen and told me it's most likely a cracked exhaust manifold. Indeed, much to my surprise, some parts of the exhaust system are right there up front and they're brittle. He told me the accident almost certainly caused the damage.

The poor kid driving the SUV was quaking in his boots and near tears at the thought of giving me his insurance information or filing a police report. So I got his name and phone number and gave him mine and told him to have his parents call me the next day. (This is me being too darn trusting... Live and learn.)

By the time I arrived in Plymouth for my bike ride I was too late to ride with the club, but all was not lost. My friend Courtney was also a bit late so we had a nice ride together on Hines drive.

To add to the annoyances, before the family party I'd gotten a call from my sister-in-law, Sarah. She's married to Buster's brother so we also share the same last name. UofM health labs sent my blood test results to her. While I like and trust my sister-in-law, I'm a rather upset that the lab is not more careful to avoid a breach of privacy like this. I plan to call and complain and ask them to be more careful in the future. If they do it again, I'm thinking I might be calling a lawyer. (fyi, blood tests all came back normal and healthy. That's the good news. The bad news is I still don't know why I'm having such a miserably difficult time losing weight.)

I got up Friday morning and went strait to Dusty's Collision to get an estimate to fix the damage to my car. Then I went to my sister-in-law's office to pick up my lab results. Here's where she works:


That's the Deke Shant. It's owned by the fraternity Delta Kappa Epsilon, and houses their national offices. Sarah works for the national office. She gave me a tour of the building. It's smaller than I thought, but still very impressive. I especially liked the stained glass windows on the upper floor. Unfortunately I didn't get pictures.

By the end of the work day Friday (clearly I didn't get much work done) I still hadn't heard from the SUV kid's parents. I googled the phone number he gave me to verify that he wasn't trying to pull a fast one. The results matched the name he gave me and also spit out the first names of his parents and their address. I love google. I called and left a polite message on their answering machine asking them to return my call. I'm naturally a bit too trusting but I was really getting suspicious at this point.

The car thing was definitely stressing me out so I needed my Friday evening bike ride and post ride beer more than ever. Sadly, not quite half way through the ride the storms and rain that were only 30% likely landed right on top of us. We got soaked. So the ride was a bust but dinner and beer with my bicycle friends at Casey's was just as fun as ever.

Saturday, with a list as long as my arm of things I wanted to get done and still no word from SUV kid, I was getting very very frustrated. I called the number the kid gave me again around 11:30am. The mother answered. I told her I wanted to come up to Bloomfield and file a police report and go through insurance to get my car fixed and I told her about Dusty's estimate and the cracked exhaust manifold. She told me she would call me back in 20 minutes when her husband had left. She didn't want him to find out. She called back at 12:30pm to tell me she'd changed her mind and wanted to wait for her husband to return because it was so much money. When the husband/father finally called around 2pm he had some outlandish plan to have my car taken to his buddy's body shop in another town to be fixed. I handed the phone to Buster.

Buster may not always be the most sensitive or romantic of husbands but he always knows when and how to stand up for me. And that's way more important to me than flowers and candle light. He flat out told that guy NO. We would either do the right thing and file a police report and go through insurance or he would give us the money to get the car fixed here in Ann Arbor.

Michigan is a no-fault state so my insurance pays to fix my car when I'm involved in a traffic accident no matter who's at fault. And there was no damage (that I could see) to his giant SUV. I'm sure his insurance would be made aware of the accident, but I doubt they'd change his premiums unless the kid was issued a ticket. And I don't think it's possible for the kid to get a ticket since we didn't call the police to the scene. I can't figure out why filing a police report and going through my insurance to fix my car was a problem for him.

I could only hear Buster's side of the conversation but they were definitely not coming to an agreement. Buster told him we'd be filing a police report the next day. When he hung up he asked me if I had time to go right away. I hopped in the car and headed for the Bloomfield township police department immediately.

I expected to get chewed out for not calling the police to the scene. I didn't. The officer that took my report was very nice. When he asked if I'd called the other party to have them to come in and file the report with me I told him about the conversation with the father and that I simply wasn't comfortable contacting them again (honestly, every Hummer I saw in Bloomfield made me a little nervous). The officer gathered all my information, gave me a complaint number and sent me on my way within just a few short minutes. He told me he was going to follow up with the other party immediately. I was relieved.

I ran home, showered and dressed, and headed for Monroe (in my noisy car) where some close family friends were renewing their vows. I missed the beginning of the ceremony but the end was lovely and the party was great fun. I'll post pictures when I get them.

I was confident that the stress and hectic running around of the last few days was over as I pulled into my drive near midnight last night. It was a pretty warm evening and I was looking forward to walking into my air conditioned house and changing out of my dress clothes and relaxing with Buster for a bit. Only, when I walked in the door, the house was way warmer than it should have been, it was only slightly cooler than outside. oh dear...

So, on top of my mis-routed medical information, my messed up car, nearly getting screwed by rich people driving large scary SUVs, missing one bike ride and getting soaking wet on another, our AC was broken. Waah!

I bought myself a new pair of these to make myself feel better:

Some girls buy Manolo Blahniks, I buy Sidis. Also, I found a new favorite bike shop.

I feel much better now.

One Hundred Miles

One hundred point six to be exact. It's a bit of a long way. It's even longer when you're on a bicycle.

I finally completed my first century of the summer this past Sunday (egads! it's almost fall! took me long enough!). I've done other centuries in years past but this is my first one that wasn't part of an organized tour with dedicated food and rest stops. This was an AABTS club ride called the Sleeker Senile (S)Century. Sleeker hosts this ride on third Sunday of each month. I regret not bringing my camera. The scenery was great, but there was a chance of rain and I was paranoid.

The ride began at 8am in Dexter. 8am and I are not the best of friends, but I made it and I was ready to ride. Sleeker handed out cue sheets (for those that might not know, a cue sheet is a list of cues or directions including the distance between turns and the total mileage at each turn). At the top of the cue sheet it said "Olivet Out n Back 130". 130? 130 miles? Oh Boy! Ok, that was not what I had in mind but wasn't really a problem, it's an out and back route so I could turn around at 50 miles instead of 65 and have my century without killing myself. Click through to see my route.

We pulled out of Dexter and within a few short miles I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep up with the pack -- "the pack" being three very fit guys. About the time we reached Chelsea (shy of 10 miles into the ride) the guys had disappeared into the distance and I was firmly on my own. The weather was lovely and I pedaled along, quite happy to be riding at my own pace and enjoying the day. There was a bit of a headwind but I didn't let it bother me -- I knew it'd be at my back helping me along when I turned back toward home.

Around 25 miles in I was in need of a restroom and some water bottle refills. Just as I began to think about ducking into the woods to take care of the restroom portion I came upon Waterloo Recreation Area. This is where hulluva ride stops for lunch. I pulled in to the campground for a quick rest and refill.

Back on the road and about 45 minutes later I came across an unmarked intersection. The mileage showing on my bike computer wasn't quite right to be the turn I was looking for, but a construction detour in Chelsea and my detour into Waterloo had me a fair amount ahead of the mileage on the cue sheet. Maybe I had miscalculated. I was in completely unfamiliar territory so I pulled out some old maps from helluva ride and tried to figure out if I was still on them. While I was trying to decide which way to go another cyclist pedaled up and asked if I needed help. Her name is Dawn and she rescued me.

Dawn took a look at the cue sheet, pointed me in the right direction and offered to tag along for a bit. So I rode and chatted with Dawn for the next hour or so. When we reached the border of Jackson County she turned back and headed for home. I rode on into Ingham County toward Onondaga.

Onondaga is a teeny tiny little rural town about a dozen miles south of Lansing. The cue sheet recommended stopping here for food, rest, and refills. There was a nice little gas station/convenience store with picnic tables outside. I had a little lunch and a lot of water and Gatorade and I visited with another group of cyclists stopping for a snack. They'll be on the same dalmac route that I'll be on next week. Perhaps I'll see them there.

The Onondaga stop was just shy of the half-way point if I wanted to make a full century. So I got back on my bike and pedaled on up the road until my bike computer read 50.5 miles. The extra half mile was just to be sure. Better that I arrive back in Dexter with 101 miles than 99 miles because really wanted that century and I knew when I got back within sight of my car I'd be all done no matter what the mileage.

I passed a working oil well on my way up the road... Thought that was kinda cool. I didn't know we had those in Michigan. I reached the border between Ingham and Eaton Counties just as my bike computer reached 50.5 miles. So I turned around and headed back without entering Eaton. Three counties is enough for one day. The way back seemed shorter, though I had less company. I never really realized how pretty Michigan is until I started biking. This ride covered some very nice territory. The roads were more familiar on the way back and a gentle wind was helping me along so I rode a little easier and took more time to look around and enjoy the scenery.

I stopped again at Waterloo and went down by the lake this time. There were lots of families playing in the water and sitting on the beach and eating ice cream and generally enjoying the lovely weather. I hadn't planned on staying longer than it took to fill my water bottles and empty my bladder. But, with 75 miles down, I was getting tired and needed a little stretch and a short rest.

The last 25 miles were the most familiar and seemed to fly by. I had thought I might stop in Chelsea, ten miles from my destination, but when I got there I still had a full bottle left and was anxious to finish up. So I soldiered on.

As I rode the last stretch into Dexter I glanced down at my bike computer and relieved to see I wouldn't need to add any extra laps around town to reach the century mark. I was sore and exhausted and it felt wonderful to get off the bike. I had a few aches and pains but nothing serious. It was nothing like the time when my hand went numb on a century a couple years ago and I couldn't open a jar for two months. Or the time when I got saddles sores so bad on another century that I rode the last 5 miles without touching my poor tush to the saddle and couldn't wear underwear for a week. Or the time when I arrived home so dehydrated that I had a headache for two days. Yes, I think I've finally got this century thing figured out. My knees didn't even hurt the next day!

Not five minutes after I arrived in Dexter, two of the fast guys pulled in. They had done a full 130 miles. They must have set a blistering pace and they both looked at least as exhausted as I felt.

In case you're wondering, my ride time for 100.6 miles was almost exactly 7 hours. That's an average of 14.3 mph. The whole ride, with rest stops, took 8 hours. The 130 mile guys probably spent a little less time resting and probably averaged between 17 and 18 mph. That, in my opinion, is WICKED fast for that long of a ride. Someday maybe I'll be that strong! In the mean time, I'm pretty proud of my 100.6 miles.

Rocky the Rescued Racoon

I haven't had much inspiration for the blog lately (except for a super fun baby shower last weekend which I will be posting about after I sort through the zillions of photos) so I'm extra pleased about my eventful Wednesday evening bike ride.

Every Wednesday evening for the past couple summers, if the weather is pleasant and my knees aren't complaining too loudly I ride the AABTS club ride. It's 25 miles and it's kinda fast. This summer the ride leaders and most of the other riders have been leaving me in the dust. So it's been more of a push-my-limits fitness ride and less of a social ride. But this week was a little different. This week I managed to catch up with Courtney at about the half way point. She was taking it easy. I've ridden with her before. She's quite capable of leaving me in the dust. Her husband, Cameron, is quite capable of riding circles around me... very large fast circles. Courtney and Cameron are new to the club this year and they're super nice folks.

When Courtney and I crested a small hill and saw her husband standing on the side of the road we figured he must have gotten a flat. He's had some very very bad luck with flats lately. This time both his tires were fully inflated. Turns out he was in the middle of a wildlife rescue. This little guy was trying to cross the road:

With no mama raccoons in sight Cameron couldn't figure out which side of the road to leave this poor fella on. Each time Cameron tried to set him down, the little guy would cry and try to follow.

Courtney and I rode on expecting Cameron to get it all sorted and catch up with us shortly. Forty-five minutes later our route returned us to an intersection about two miles from where we'd left Cameron and the baby raccoon. And there they were, sitting in the grass outside the convenience store. Rather than leaving little Rocky the Raccoon to certain death on the side of the road, Cameron had called the humane society.

I have mixed feelings about raccoons. I admire them for their cleverness, but also find them a bit frightening, seeing as how they are wild animals and all. Several years ago, while Buster and I were camping, a raccoon made himself a fine lunch by figuring out how to unlock our tote of dry foods. Later when I was alone in the campsite a raccoon, likely the same one returning for an evening snack, tried to sneak up on me and nearly succeeded. His little paw-hand was inches away from my box of crackers when I spotted him and chased him off. He retreated to the very edge of the campfire light and proceeded to stalk me and my crackers until Buster returned. Outnumbered, he finally sulked off into the woods.

So I know from personal experience that raccoons are pretty smart, but they can also be very pesky and more than a little mean. And I can't imagine it'd be possible to domesticate them. I figured the humane society would put down the poor little guy that Cameron so kindly rescued. I suppose that would be a better fate for him than getting run over by a car or starving to death... but not much better.

Courtney and I were still there outside the convenience store with Cameron and little Rocky when the humane society guy arrived. No, they were not going to put him down unless he had distemper. Sadly, he had some symptoms -- he appeared malnourished and lethargic, and there was a little bit of discharge from one of his eyes. But he didn't show the typical neurological signs so maybe he's not sick, just hungry. The humane society guy figured that momma raccoon probably got hit by a car and this little guy had been on his own without momma to feed him for several days.

Turns out there are state licensed rehabilitation folks for wild animals. I've seen folks that do this on a TV program called Michigan Out of Doors that Buster likes to watch. They rehabilitate sick animals and reintroduce them into the wild. The animals that can't survive on their own in the wild, like the eagle with the amputated wing they had on the TV show, stay with the rehab folks and travel around the state to educate the public and promote the rehab efforts. I don't know if it's the same rehab folks that I saw on TV, but the humane society guy was taking rocky to some rehab folks.

Little Rocky may never know how lucky he is that Cameron, with a big heart and a love of animals, happened to be riding by just then. We're all hoping that little Rocky the Rescued Raccoon gets the food and care he needs in the animal rehab orphanage and grows up clever and strong so he can steal lots of breakfast cereal from locked food totes and terrorize many a lone cracker-eating camper.

One Helluva Ride! 2008

The gods were not smiling on One Helluva Ride this year. Bad weather and a chemical spill conspired to overshadow the amazing work of the OHR organizers and volunteers.

I got up at the crack of dawn and drove out to the Chelsea fairgrounds hoping I could get my 100 mile ride in before the bad weather hit. There were probably two or three hundred cars already in the parking area when I arrived. The threat of bad weather sure didn't keep too many people away!

I was all checked in and on my bicycle pulling out of the fairgrounds just before 7:30am. Less than a mile into the route, still in Chelsea, we needed to make a left at a fairly busy intersection with a "smart" left turn light. When I'm on a bicycle "smart" lights are one of my pet peeves. What's one to do when the traffic signals never change in your favor? The only thing we could do was run the light. Some riders were more considerate about it than others. Kudos to the riders that politely yielded to motorists before running the red. Next year maybe we can ask the Chelsea police if they wouldn't mind posting an officer at this intersection to help us out.

I actually feel a bit whiny mentioning that intersection because the number of police and sag along the route was absolutely wonderful. There were friendly faces at nearly all the busier intersections. I do a fair number of these tours and OHR has more police and sag support than any other ride I've done. And every year it seems to get even better.

You'd think all this police presence would remind motorists to slow down, be patient, and give cyclists plenty of room. But the morning was not without incident. On the west side of Dexter I saw a cyclist was being loaded into an ambulance. She was conscious and on her feet, so I think she'll be ok. On the east side of Dexter I rode past a rider holding a handkerchief to his face. He told me he'd been clipped by a car and he and his friend had already called for assistance. There was a cop at the intersection not a mile behind us. I sure hope someone got a license plate number!

The rest of the first leg of the ride went quite well. The sun was still peeking out below the clouds. The air was heavy and we all knew the rain was coming, but not quite yet. Several miles north of Dexter we turned west onto Darwin Rd and headed toward Hell, MI. Maybe I'm a complete dork, or maybe I just like to poke fun at the Creationists, but I sure do get a kick out of the fact that Darwin is the road to Hell.

While riding the hills of Hell I happened upon Paulie. I met Paulie back in May on the DCC's Metro Grand Spring Tour. On the MGST he was with a couple other riders that rode at about the same pace I do. This time he was with a girl I hadn't met before and I had a hard time keeping up. When we reached the first rest stop (28 miles in) I quickly tucked all stuff I wanted to keep dry into ziplock bags (the rain was definitely coming), grabbed a banana, filled my water bottles with gatorade, and said goodbye to Paulie. I didn't want to waste any time as I was still hoping to get the full 100 in before the weather got nasty. I figured Paulie and his friend would catch up with me before lunch. Sadly, I didn't see them again.

At around 40 miles a couple gentlemen passed me slowly enough to chat a bit. The clouds were starting to look ominous and we all agreed we were likely to get wet. I boldly proclaimed that I didn't mind getting a little wet, I just didn't want hail or lightening. Literally two minutes later I got my wish. Ten minutes later it was raining hard enough to hurt, I was soaked to the bone, and the whole thing stopped being fun. The rain finally let up then stopped all together just a few minutes before I pulled into the lunch stop at Portage Lake in Waterloo State Recreation Area.

I called Buster (in case you're new around here, that's what I call my husband) while I was eating my peanut butter and banana sandwich with a side of yummy pasta salad. He said the weather forecast was not looking too good. When I'd checked the forecast that morning the winds were expected to kick up in the afternoon with the worst of the storms hitting around 4pm. Armed with a dismal forecast but no immediate signs of bad weather I forged ahead thinking I might still be able to make the 100 miles but giving myself permission to take the shorter route if the weather looked bad when I reached the split.

The 100 mile route splits from the 79 mile route right near the Race Rd exit of I-94. The 100 mile route heads west a mile or two on Ann Arbor Rd then heads south to Napoleon before turning back north to Grass Lake, while the shorter route turns East along the service drive for a bit before taking a more direct route to Grass Lake.

As I rode south on Race Rd approaching I-94 I discovered a big knot of traffic. There was a cop directing traffic and an OHR volunteer stationed near the corner to inform us that the 100 mile loop was closed due to a chemical spill just a mile or so west of us. Everyone, motorists and cyclists alike, were being directed East along the service drive. While I was disappointed that riders would not be allowed to ride the longer loop (I helped paint the markings along that loop), I was a bit relieved to have the decision made for me. I would take the 79 mile route the rest of the way (at this point my knees, legs, and sore tush were all quite grateful).

The rest stop in Grass Lake is outside a very nifty old train station. There was a barber shop quartet here this year to serenade the riders. They were pretty gosh darn good. I rested, stretched, ate cookies and bananas, refilled my bottles, and discussed the virtues of a clean shower, a dry towel, and a cold beer with some like minded women. Then I headed out to complete the ride.

At this point the wind really picked up. Luckily it was out of the south so we had a good tail wind for several miles until we turned east for the final leg of the ride back into Chelsea. There were friendly volunteers and plenty of watermelon to greet riders returning to the fairgrounds.

I was dead tired so I skipped the watermelon and headed strait home for that nice clean shower and dry towel I'd been dreaming about for the last 16 miles. A handful of ibuprofen, a nice long nap, and copious amounts of Thai food later I felt human again. Many thanks to the bossman for bringing the Thai food!

The more I think about this year's ride the more proud I am to have been part of the group that made it happen. The weather and the chemical spill were bummers, but everything that could be controlled was nearly perfect. The route was well planned and well marked with both signs and street markings (I helped with a section of the street painting). The maps and cue sheets were flawless. The rest stops and lunch stops were well spaced, fully stocked with good food and beverages, and run by hardworking friendly folks. The sags were copious and responsive and the police were reassuringly ubiquitous. And the t-shirts are really classy. I don't think I could possibly be more impressed or more proud of the folks that made all this happen.

I am more than a little disappointed that I have yet to complete a century this year. I might head down to Findlay, Ohio in September for the Hancock Horizontal Hundred. I know that at least a couple other aabts members will be there and I'm still holding out hope that Mary's knee will stop being so cranky and let her back on her bicycle by then. But I'd really like to have a century under my belt this summer before I ride DALMAC at the end of August so I might just have to map one out myself and do my very first unsupported century. It's a rather daunting thought... We'll see if I can work up the courage to give it a shot.

Same Roads, Same Rights, Same Rules, Part 1

Recently, a staff member of the Boston Globe by the name of Bella English published a blog entry entitled "If only drivers shared the road, cyclists would be safer". It stirred up a bit of controversy. I mostly, but not entirely, agree with Ms English. It's a familiar rant to most road bikers and it goes something like this:

We bikers are all angelic. We hug trees and ride for charity. We obey all the rules of the road all the time. We are polite to automobiles and we stay to the right and always riding single file. You automobile drivers are evil vile and nasty people. You are stupid and angry. Our safety is you're responsibility and you are falling down on the job.

Ok, that's a little extreme. Ms English didn't go that far but she went farther than I like. Her column made me scrunch up my nose a little thinking "no, that's not quite right". As of today there are over 400 comments to her post. It's the comments contradicting Ms English that really got my blood boiling.

Let me start by telling you what Ms English did and did not get right. She starts by painting a very rosy picture of cyclists much like the tongue in cheek rant above. Sorry, that's sadly not the case. I'm a very cautious rider and I try to be as polite as possible to auto traffic. But I cannot claim to obey all the traffic laws all the time. I admit:

1. I blow stop signs... slowly and with a careful eye out for cross traffic, pedestrians, and other cyclists. Clipping out and coming to a full stop on bicycle is kinda a pain. I always give proper right-of-way, but I don't often come to a full stop.
   
2. And I blow red lights. Honestly, only one red light. The left turn signal at Zeeb and Dexter is a smart light and my bike won't trigger it, so I blow it carefully after yielding to traffic.
   
3. I don't always stay to the right. Remember that stretch of potholes I mentioned in my biking post back in May? Those aren't the only or even the worst potholes around here. I will ride in the left half of the lane or even on the yellow line (when there's no oncoming traffic) to avoid potholes. Potholes can do a fair amount of damage to both a bicycle and a cyclist.
   
4. I don't always ride single file. Sometimes, on group rides, I'll get chatting with another rider and we'll be riding side by side so we don't have to shout at one another. I listen for traffic approaching behind us so we can form up if there's a car coming but sometimes I don't hear the car until it's too late. If you pass me in a car while I'm doing this, glance in your rear view mirror. There's a good chance you'll see me wince and say "Sorry!!".
5. I don't always signal. I know the hand signals for left, right, and stop and I try to use them whenever my intentions may not be crystal clear to anyone else on the road. Sometimes, when the road conditions are poor or I need both brakes, I just don't feel safe taking my left hand off the bar in order to signal.

So, I'm a reasonably well behaved cyclist but I'm no angel. Most of the cyclists I see on the road are a lot like me. I've seen other riders that are not quite so well behaved. I've seen riders that refuse to form up so cars can pass more easily. I've seen riders without helmets or with ipod earbuds stuck in their ears. I've seen riders blow through intersections when they should have stopped or yielded. I've seen incredibly rude riders fly through quiet neighborhoods shouting at each other and nearly running over dogs and pedestrians. I've seen riders blatantly ignore the rules of the road cutting in and out of traffic, on and off of sidewalks, creating dangerous situations for themselves, pedestrians, and motorists. I've also seen riders stopped and ticketed by police officers -- Good job, Mr. Police Man!

We cyclists are not angelic. And some of us are, I'm terribly sorry and embarrassed to say, downright rude, obnoxious, and unsafe. But those arrogant turds are the minority. Most of us actually do try to share the road politely, safely, and legally.

On the auto side of the argument, Ms English states, "I divide dangerous drivers into two categories: angry or stupid." (Note we're only talking about the drivers that cause trouble for bikers, not the many polite, knowledgeable, safe drivers.) Angry or stupid? Anger or frustration do not necessarily lead to dangerous behavior. And stupidity is not the same as ignorance. Perhaps I'm just picking on semantics here, but I think "belligerent" and "ignorant" work better than "angry" and "stupid".

Belligerent drivers are the worst. But I don't think I really need to explain this one much. These are the folks that throw things (lit cigarettes, McDonald's bags, drink cups full of ice, random trash, dirty diapers) out their windows at bikers. These are the folks that try to run bikers off the road. These are the folks that lay on their horn or shout nasty things as they pass. These are the folks that get behind the wheel when they've had a few too many. Bullies, a$$holes, whatever you call them, they're intentionally creating dangerous situations and we can only hope they land in jail or earn themselves a posthumous Darwin award. Thankfully there really aren't that many of these dip-twiddles around here. Apparently they're all moving to Boston.

Ignorant drivers are less dangerous but far far more plentiful. There are only a few things you need to know to safely share the road with cyclists. It amazes me that this stuff doesn't seem to be mentioned in drivers education classes. I would love to see a greater effort on the part of cyclists' organizations to educate motorists. From my personal experience, here's what I think all motorists should know:

1. Six feet. That's about half a lane. That's how much room a standard size car or motorcycle should give a cyclist when passing. More is always better, but six feet is enough. And remember, oncoming cyclists need at least half a lane, too. Unless your car is very small it's probably best to wait for ALL oncoming traffic, including cyclists, to clear before passing.
   
2. Ten or more feet. Most of a lane. That's the minimum amount of space an oversize vehicle (van, suv, full size pickup) or anything pulling a trailer should give a bike. Trailers are often wider than the vehicles that are pulling them. I can't even count the number of times I've been scared silly by a trailer passing far too close.
3. Horns are startling! Even when you just tweet them. There's really no need. Unless you're driving a quiet little hybrid on the electrics, I can probably hear you coming without you hittin' the horn.
4. Cyclists' hand signals are the same as drivers' hand signals. You learned this one in driver's ed. Here's a refresher: left hand strait out = left turn; left hand up, elbow bent = right turn (some cyclists point with their right hand); left hand down, elbow bent or strait = slowing or stopping. You may also see cyclists pointing at various places on the road, or at branches hanging over the road, or at pedestrians or slower cyclists ahead. They're pointing out hazards to other cyclists that may too close behind them (drafting) to see what's coming. As you approach or pass cyclists you may hear them shout to riders ahead. They're usually saying "car back!" to warn the other cyclists to form up and be cautious because a car is trying to pass.
5. Motorists, please use your signals to let cyclists know what you're doing! Be predictable so we can stay out of your way. I nearly got into an accident the other day with a motorist trying to turn left without a signal -- I was trying to make a left and merge in behind him, but he was unexpectedly slowing to turn onto the street I was coming from. I ended up turning 180 back onto the street I came from from. He yelled something nasty at me as he passed, but I wouldn't have been in his way if he'd used his signal.
   
6. Don't be alarmed or annoyed when cyclists pull into the stream of traffic at an intersection. That's the safest place for us to be. Cyclists should be given their turn at a four way stop just like a motorist. Cyclists should take a position in the left half of the lane or in the right half of a left turn lane when turning left.
   
7. By law cyclists are supposed to keep right or stay in a bike lane if there is one. However, this rule does not apply when a cyclist is turning left or avoiding hazards. Have you seen Michigan roads lately? Cyclists in my neck of the woods spend a lot of time avoiding hazards. Expect it.
8. Yield the right-of-way to a cyclist just as you would another vehicle.
9. Put away the cell phone and don't drive if you've been drinking. There's nothing more likely to kill a cyclist than a distracted or, worse yet, inebriated driver.

If you, as a motorist, remember these things. If cyclists also behave themselves, the roads will be a lot safer and more pleasant for all of us. Ms. English closes her blog post with this:

"What both bikers and drivers need to do is to understand that neither one owns the road, that both sides must share it in order to ensure everyone's safety. In Rodney King's immortal words: 'Why can't we all just get along?'"

I can't argue with that!

I'm already getting rather long winded here and I haven't even addressed any of the comments to the Boston Globe blog post. I'll save that for later.

In the mean time, If you happen to live in Michigan between Ann Arbor and Jackson within about 15 miles north or south of I94, be on the lookout for me and well over a thousand other cyclists on the roads tomorrow. Every year on the second Saturday in July the Ann Arbor Bicycle Touring Society puts on One Helluva Ride. Last year there were 1730 riders. The century (100 mile) route, which I'll be riding, starts at the Chelsea fair grounds and makes a big loop through Dexter, Hell, Gregory, Stockbridge, Munith, Portage Lake State Park (where we have lunch), Napoleon, Grass Lake, Sylvan, and back into Chelsea. Come out and wave, or better yet, get on your bikes and ride!