The return home and an assortment of random thoughts

After figuring I'd accept a ride home from work Saturday, I  rode the bike home instead. The roads were merely wet. It was still precipitating--that "winter mix" we so enjoy--but there had been enough traffic on the roads that their surfaces were warm enough (and perhaps salted/brined enough) that there was less ice and slush buildup than I dealt with in the morning. Aside from that I've never been over-fond of riding in rain, and especially not wet weather combined with near-freezing temperatures, it was not a bad ride. I even got to see four or five deer rushing through the woods beside Rollington Road (I apparently surprised one, and her departure startled a few more...).

One passenger in a passing SUV yelled something at me, and it sounded like he was asking whether it was too cold to ride. Of course, the SUV was going fast enough that there was no opportunity for anything like a dialog.

Motorists don't seem to WANT any dialog. They mostly want to be on their way, I suppose, just as I do. Few seem to wish me personal harm, although there are a few who would rather I be out of their way and who are quite vocal about it.

Those seem to feel an inflated sense of self-importance, especially compared to some lonely figure pedaling a bike on a snowy afternoon. I have news for them. I'm just as important as they are. My time is just as important to me as theirs is to them. By riding a bike, I get to multi-task with a different set of tasks than theirs. I get to exercise while getting where I'm going. I get to save money on transportation so that I can use that money on something I'd rather buy--like nicer food, or more appropriate clothing for me, or a more comfortable house than I might have had if I was strapped into a monthly car payment that is half my take-home pay.

I could be as smug about riding instead of driving as many anti-bicycle folks accuse me of being. Sometimes I probably am, just as they are ridiculously smug about their inflated self-importance enough to assume that because they are willing to pay exorbitant amounts of money for the privilege of operating a motor vehicle they should have priority over me when it comes to road lane allocation.

I prefer to ride my bike instead of driving for many reasons. Not just that it's cheaper. Not just that it has become part of my persona. Not just that I'm getting exercise by doing so. Not just that I'm setting an example by showing it can be done. Not just these reasons alone or in combination.

On my way home yesterday afternoon, I stopped by The Trail Store to see what was happening there. I really like this store for several reasons: It's close--less than a mile and a half from my house, it's locally-owned, the staff are great folks who are encouraged by the store owners to be up to date on their gear knowledge, they carry Vibram Five Fingers shoes in a wide assortment of styles and colors, and so on. When I walked in, I was greeted by another reason I like the store, their current CCO (Chief Canine Officer), Murphy.

Murphy is a year-old Great Dane, and his coloring is a striking blue brindle (or perhaps merle with no white). Murphy is not yet full-grown, and only weighs about 120#. His head is larger than several Great Dane heads I've seen over the years, and is high enough from the floor at normal posture than I can pet him with my elbow at a ninety-degree angle. I suspect that Murphy will fill out to between 150 and160 pounds at some point. He clearly likes coming to work with his person, as he gets lots of attention and pets from customers. Despite his puppy-ish energy levels, he seems to get that he's inside and he doesn't romp around tearing down clothing displays.