recovery

No, I didn’t have an accident!
But isn’t life full of little accidents? What I mean is, there are parameters within which we can allow ourselves to be out of control.
For example: Last winter I wrote about how I watched a cyclist pass me on his massive easy step-through Biria slipping and sliding in a thick growing layer of fluffiness without a care, because he knew that he would slip only so far and still right himself automatically. His thick tires slid down into the unexpected grooves of the uneven ground hidden under the fresh snow, but that did not disturb my fellow rider, who rode on with certainty of his graceful recovery. He soon was out of sight, and I followed on foot in his tracks.
This made me think that we recover all the time, in fact each step we take is a miniscule ever so brief loss of balance. Between the time when we pick up one foot and the time we put it down in front of the other we trust that we will land safely on both feet again.
If I may digress and say this applies so much more broadly. It applies to art, and music, and relationships. It’s about trust, and experience, and skill.
A brush stroke comes out the way it does not because the artist controls every split second, and every angle of every individual muscle in her hand, but because she has made many brush strokes before, and experienced a pattern in their outcome.
A singer can allow a note to come out false and harsh, only to glide into key, and resolve in the most beautiful sound. It’s even more desirable and interesting than a singer who is always in control.
What would our relationships be like if we didn’t get a chance to fight and make up? How much anxiety would we experience from the constant fear of conflict?
So, how do we determine these parameters? How do we determine how far out of control is too far?
Practise and experience help us gain the skills to make graceful barely noticeable recoveries all day, and keep our lives exciting.

get off the road

It’s amazing how many drivers still don’t really understand traffic law, and the definition of a vehicle.
Wide open space, 4 lanes, 2 each way, nobody around. I look over my shoulder, then change lanes to gear up for a left turn. As I’m drifting a bit, in my lane, behind me appears a car, in my lane. I know this because he honks his horn. Now, there’s another lane right beside my lane. And it’s wide open. I look over my shoulder to see what he wants, and he makes a huge show of having to go around me, and waves his hands frantically and arrogantly towards the curb to indicate where I belong.
I have to admit at this point I acted very unladylike and did a little arm flailing myself. Then I stuck my arm out to complete my left turn and noticed a bored construction cop standing there having witnessed the whole thing.

assumptions and deductions

I was waiting for a green light, hugging the curb, when a man in a pickup pulled up beside me, craned his neck towards me across the passenger side, raised his eyebrows, and waved his arm around to show he was interested in making a right turn, and was it ok for him to proceed.
That made me so happy!
On one hand I thought, where would I go? I have a red light, just like you. Can’t go straight, and if I’d wanted to make a right turn, I’d have probably already done it. He still took the time to communicate – and he did it with a friendly grin!
But most people aren’t so generous. In fact, in drawing conclusions, they often forget about a key piece of information, the existence of bicycles on the road.
Say you’re a motorist making a left turn out of a driveway. On your left, a big truck is parked, presumably blocking all traffic from that direction, and most likely blocking your view. Traffic in the opposite direction, from your right, is moving. You deduce there is no room for anyone to get around the truck. You see an opening coming from the right. You are sure the coast is clear. You stop looking – and thinking – and go.
Cyclists are small. We can do the unexpected, even without breaking the rules. Despite the oncoming traffic, I fit around this two-storey monster loaded with brand new sedans. But I know all kinds of dangers can lurk around any corner. I don’t assume the coast is clear on the other side of the truck, until i see the coast is clear. I slow down, I see you charge out of the driveway, I let you pass. Another catastrophe averted. Why? Because assumptions can kill you!
Another dangerous assumption is that one thing naturally leads to another, just because they logically should. The simplest example is, it’s easy to assume someone is going straight just because they aren’t signaling, and it’s easy to assume that someone is going to turn, just because their signal is flashing! Don’t assume.
But the most dangerous assumption that can be made by anyone on the road is the assumption by a cyclist that they are seen, generally visible enough, and in a specific situation has been spotted. The killer assumption that usually follows is that a driver will watch out for him and give him the right of way or enough room to make surprise maneuvres. In fact, to some degree this is true! Most drivers seem to have adapted to the frequent erratic arrogance coming their way on two wheels. Nobody wants to kill anyone. It may seem that way to some, but most people would rather not have the hassle in their lives.
A driver will cede. Reluctantly. If he sees you, sees you in time. And if he can predict within a reasonable margin what you’re about to do.
So, communicate. Be predictable, and if not, visible and patient. Signal, whichever way you think is clear. Make eye-contact to ensure for yourself that a driver has figured out what you’re up to and is willing to give you the space to do it. Say thank you! Show appreciation any way you can, even if he was only giving you your deserved right of way. Nod, wave, grin. It may make a difference in how a driver will treat the next cyclist.

FFS - think about it

I was riding in the bike lane approaching a bus waiting to make a right turn. He was in my way. He was in my lane. Just standing there, waiting for some dawdling pedestrians to cross the street. I looked over my shoulder and swerved to go around him on the left. He started turning then, at the same time a pickup truck came out of that side street to make a left turn. The driver obviously had no idea I was there, but I’d seen him, so I slowed down.  I got pretty close to him, but I don’t mind giving the right of way, because it beats being run over.
Behind him, surprisingly, and much more dangerous than an oblivious pedestrian, appeared an oblivious fellow cyclist going the wrong way, on my bike lane, at regular speed. When we spotted each other we stuttered a bit, then almost collided.

Never assume that someone very proximate isn’t just in the middle of doing something stupid and unpredictable.  And when doing something stupid and unpredictable yourself – and we all end up doing unpredictable, even stupid things, if only by momentary distraction, that we’re sure we’ve really really thought through – please!  Make sure that you have.

where'd ya get the biria?

Stranger with white helmet: Noticed you going westbound on Queens Quay today around 11:45. I had decided to walk because of the snow storm. It is better to leave my bike at home in the morning than at work in the evening.
You passed me on the sidewalk, a little close I must say, on your funny-looking Biria Easy Boarding Bicycle.
I watched you ride away through some terrain that defies everything I thought I knew about riding in the snow, bouncing and wriggling through whatever was hidden under the inch or two of new fluffiness, including lumps of ice and construction debris, and through a 4-inch snow drift rounding the corner on the sidewalk up a ways. I know this because I had the opportunity to follow your tracks most of my way, no footsteps anywhere, just the two snakes of wide tread of the brave tires on your magic bike, until I thought I’d lost you at the entrance to the Westin Harbour Castle, where I stopped a while to investigate where you might have gone, and would it be worth it to find you and pick your brain. Did you buy the tires separately? Do you park your bike outside? Where d’ya get it?
I happen to have seen this bike online just yesterday, and couldn’t find a dealer for it.
Later I picked up your tracks again, they led me to a side entrance of one of the many condos where they ended right at the little back door, and at least one of my questions was answered.

almost home now don't get cocky

It’s ok to unclench your hands and jaw now, but don’t get too comfortable, close to home is where most people get into accidents.
Every year, when the snow hits, I’m a little surprised at how un-slippery it is.  It feels a bit out of control while your tires are finding the pavement, but people expect it to feel like riding on a skating rink – years ago I did – but it compares much better to riding on a beach.
Every year I remember that I meant to buy goggles. When I rode to work yesterday I didn’t realize I had the wind in my back. I also didn’t realize it would keep snowing all day long. I might have left my bike at home, but I hate to be stuck walking after a storm when the sun has come out, and everything has been cleared.
I worked hard coming home! I had to hop off and push through a few stretches of soft ‘n’ fluffy. Intersections are difficult because the criss-cross of tire tracks turns into sort of a maze of snowbanks. But the biggest hurdle last night was the wind. It’s hard to hop back on the bike, when both the ground and the air are keeping you from gaining momentum. There was lots of traffic, presumably Christmas shoppers. They didn’t seem as frantic and desperate (and dangerous) as last year, or maybe it’s still early. I didn’t enjoy the masses of cars, but without their ruts I woudn’t have ridden at all!
I keep forgetting, the city waits a certain amount of time before they plough/ re-plough the streets. Surprisingly, a lot of the sidewalks were clear! A matter of timing, I suppose.
My usual 15 minute trip home took me 45 minutes.  After about 10 I was just a big wet sponge of sweat, my eyes were watering because snow flakes feel like needles in that wind – a visor can’t keep out horizontal precipitation – and my eyebrows were riddled with icicles because condensation was coming up from my covered mouth and nose. But when I got home and upstairs into the warmth, I felt calm.
I never ride fast or far, so cardio is not part of my daily riding experience, but it was last night!

it's snowstorm time again

Today I experienced that first snow storm of the season on a new set of two wheels! My dainty little Raleigh passed the test.

When setting out on a snowy day don’t count on the bike path, or the sidewalk. Forget about those till spring time. Get visible, but seriously visible! Keep your eyes open; keep a constant eye on the terrain. Try to avoid the nice soft pillows of fluffy pretty snow. They are the devil. Dangerous obstacles are concealed under there, curbs, pot holes, metal grates, debris, ice.
Find the place in the lane that has the most grip, usually pretty much the middle, where drivers want to be, where they have already made a nice path for you. Yeah, they’re gonna get a bit mad. I don’t recommend this during rush hour, or in a whiteout, but have your lights on, wear bright clothes, and as long as you are seen, you’re as safe as… usual, whatever that means. This morning they were very well behaved, probably because they were as uncertain as I was.

Riding in the snow, it comes back to you. You’ll remember that a bit of slipping is normal, it’s not exactly slipping, it’s more like a different margin of control. It takes a bit of time to become comfortable with it again. In the meantime you might look like you don’t know what you’re doing, because you’re so focussed on the street, and you’re all clenched, and bent forward and ready to jump off.
It’s hard to command respect that way. So, of course I got honked at. By the driver of a TTC bus! Who urgently needed to beat me to the red light ahead. I looked over my shoulder, to make sure  he wasn’t too close or too fast, stuck out my left arm and crossed the lane to the other side to prepare for my turn.
I will not be intimidated.
When I arrived at work and started to lock my bike I did notice that my hands were shaking.
Did I mention to stay visible?