faster on a bike

Kirk's post reminded me of one of my favorite vignettes from my time commuting to N'Awb'ny--the time I saw a moving van on I-65 waiting in traffic to get on the Kennedy bridge, and seeing the same truck go over Mellwood Avenue on the I-64 bridge as I neared Spring Street.

In Kirk's post, he mentions that for trips of under two miles, one is often able to get to the destination more quickly on a bike than in a car, and if time looking for a parking place is added, the bike becomes the far better option. In the three-to-five mile range, it's almost a wash, but the bike is certainly more fun most of the time--other folks are more willing to ride in rain than I am. Still, bicycles are far more efficient than cars in many ways, and the balance sheet still tips toward the bike most of the time.

My commute is a bit farther than that--almost fourteen miles. It takes me around an hour do ride it most times. It takes me about half an hour to drive it. I ride it rather than drive it for several reasons, among them that I enjoy riding more than I enjoy driving, that I am redirecting money some would spend on gas, insurance, upkeep and the like to food (far more enjoyable than gasoline), health and wellness benefits (again, more enjoyable than buying car insurance) and bike parts (need I?).

For some reason, I'd had a thought or two banging around in my head lately (there's lots of room), regarding how often we read online or hear in news reports about traffic jams caused by motorists running into stationary objects or each other, and how most of these cause great long delays on interstates, as if folks get locked onto driving the interstate system and figure that even with the delay it would be quicker to reach their destinations sitting in the jam than driving side or surface streets (I'm sure that part of it is lack of knowledge of those side streets, in some cases at least, or perhaps even fear of what may be lurking on or around those side streets...), and how few of the traffic reports I hear on the radio involve blockages of roads I ride all the time. I think I've mentioned before how I-71 in Oldham County seems like a linear demolition derby, as often as it gets blocked these days--it took me forty-five minutes to get from the store to the other side of Crestwood one evening, simply because traffic from the closed interstate was so heavy in town.

Tonight I got a different dose of reality, though.

I wasn't involved, let alone harmed. I almost chuckled, though, thinking about what some of the motorists might have been thinking about me as I walked past the traffic snarl.

But I get ahead of myself.

My homeward route works from Crestwood to Pewee Valley, then behind Pewee Valley to Rollington Road, which takes me to Westport Road. I follow Westport Road almost all the way home from Forest Springs North subdivision. As I left the intersection of Westport and Frey's Hill Roads, I saw that there was a LOT of traffic stopped in front of me. I pedaled along toward whatever was obstructing the flow, and eventually saw at least three sets of police roof lights in full flashing glory. Someone was having a party in the middle of the road, and probably not having a very good time of it. Traffic came to a near-standstill, so I did what many folks in my situation would do, and hauled my bike up on the sidewalk, figuring to make better time there.

Now, being as I'm one of these League Cycling Instructors and all, you know I didn't ride my bike on the sidewalk. I walked it. I'm on the sidewalk, after all, and I'm a pedestrian there, so I acted as one. A pedestrian pushing a bicycle, but still a pedestrian.

And I was passing traffic.

A tenth of a mile or two later, I reached the site of the problem. There were indeed three police cars, and a fire truck, there to do whatever they had to do to sort out the collision between a car and a van (there may have been a third motor vehicle involved--I didn't gawk enough to figure out for myself what had happened). The car's air bags had been popped, so there was some force to the impact. I saw a guy in a Hwang's Martial Arts gi, apparently a student of the school, leaning against a police car while an officer was working on his reports, and from the quick glance, it appeared that the martial arts student was wearing handcuffs, leading me to surmise that the party was certainly not a fun one.

I didn't dally--I wanted to get home and see Jenn, have a bit to eat, and work on getting to bed. I'm a bit tired.