Ride of silence
Well today was the Ride of Silence. For those not in the know, the Ride of Silence is a memorial bike ride for those cyclists killed on the road. It's a group ride where no one speaks, riding slowly - making a profound statement of our rights. A friend of mine participated, but damn it, I woke up late for work and didn't pack my stuff or load my bike onto the roof rack. Oh well.
My mission after work was to mow my lawn. It's been raining non-stop for about a week, and the lawn has grown into a safari. While it's lush, it still looks pitiful, but I'm trying to keep up with the Joneses by blending in. My lawn mower is out of gas, and rather than drive the 1/2 mile each way to the gas station, I rode my bike with the gas can in hand. I hate when my car stinks of gas.
At the gas station, I fill up my jug ($4, no less) when another vehicle nearly plows into me taking the perceived empty station, wanting to fill up. Dirty looks exchanged.
On this day, of all days, I find it ironic being a cyclist riding home through the neighborhood with a red jug full of the fuel that keeps the jerks on the roads mowing down the cyclists.
I pedaled my fixed gear back home, in between several cars parked on the streets. I came to a stop without noticing an SUV behind me, as the gas jug was heavy and I needed to swap hands. They honked the horn loudly while I blocked his way. I took my sweet ass time accelerating back to a reasonable speed. The SUV rushes past, the driver flips the bird, running a stop sign and cruising off into the distance.
Fuck off, I thought. And the local police rush past me with their lights flashing to pull the teenager over... I smile as I ride by.
Justice. There is hope for this world.
My mission after work was to mow my lawn. It's been raining non-stop for about a week, and the lawn has grown into a safari. While it's lush, it still looks pitiful, but I'm trying to keep up with the Joneses by blending in. My lawn mower is out of gas, and rather than drive the 1/2 mile each way to the gas station, I rode my bike with the gas can in hand. I hate when my car stinks of gas.
At the gas station, I fill up my jug ($4, no less) when another vehicle nearly plows into me taking the perceived empty station, wanting to fill up. Dirty looks exchanged.
On this day, of all days, I find it ironic being a cyclist riding home through the neighborhood with a red jug full of the fuel that keeps the jerks on the roads mowing down the cyclists.
I pedaled my fixed gear back home, in between several cars parked on the streets. I came to a stop without noticing an SUV behind me, as the gas jug was heavy and I needed to swap hands. They honked the horn loudly while I blocked his way. I took my sweet ass time accelerating back to a reasonable speed. The SUV rushes past, the driver flips the bird, running a stop sign and cruising off into the distance.
Fuck off, I thought. And the local police rush past me with their lights flashing to pull the teenager over... I smile as I ride by.
Justice. There is hope for this world.
posted by Circus Freak at 11:50 PM
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