Driver comments

Over the years, I've begun to train myself to ignore the unintelligible (and often unintelligent) ululations that emanate from the windows of passing motor vehicles. I get such comments from far less than one percent of the motorists who pass me, after all, as they are easily classified as "territorial noise."

To explain that concept, I'll put forth a word picture: When walking along the neighborhood street, a dog barks at me from behind his or her fence. I'm not hurting the dog, I'm not a threat to the dog in any real way--I'm on shared public space. The dog, not having the same understanding of property lines as a human, is still at some level sounding a warning, both to me to not come closer to his space and to his pack (if his pack is only his human caretaker) that someone is close.

It doesn't matter that I am on shared public space--the dog barks. It doesn't matter that I have no intention of invading the dog's space as I understand it to be, the dog barks.

Same thing with most of the very few motorists who yell silly stuff out their windows as they pass me. I already got what I wanted from them--a more-or-less safe pass (although I admit I could do without the extra drama and noise). They have already proven that I was seen in time that they could avoid hitting me.

So, the message I choose to receive often differs from the message these motorists think they are conveying. I hear it as the motorist saying, "I'm happy for you to consider me an even bigger jerk than I think you are for daring to bicycle instead of hewing to the status quo and driving a car!" Part of this is that I rarely hear more than one syllable out of whatever the motorist is yelling, due to the dynamics of sound and background noise and such.

Even so, every now and again I get to hear enough syllables to make some sense of what the motorist said, and I wonder whether the motorist thought through his or her comment at all (lending credence to the idea that it's just territorial noise).

Two sort-of recent examples:

I was cycling through Seneca Park one day, en route to a job site in the Highlands area. I was a hundred yards or so from the four-way stop sign-controlled intersection near Big Rock. There is a marked shoulder of some width on each side of the road, and there are often folks running or walking in that shoulder area. A guy in a white pickup truck blew his horn as he approached me from behind, and opened his power window on the passenger side to tell me that "there is a lane over there for you!" while pointing at this shoulder.

Of course, he was wrong on several points: A) it is a marked shoulder, not a lane. As such, I *may* use it, at my discretion, under KRS or KAR (I'd find the exact citation, but it's not the point), but I am not required to use it. B) That it was paved space to the right of a solid line, just as many bike lanes are marked elsewhere in town, does not make it a bike lane. C) Even if it WAS a bike lane, and thus subject to 601 KAR 14:020 (9)(2), there are many reasons why it would not be feasible for me to use it as such--at least thirty reasons ran by during the next five minutes, those reasons being human beings who were using the shoulder as a firm place to run rather than be in the traffic lane.

His language confirmed that my reception of the message as indicated above was spot on.

The other happened one morning, as I was riding to another job site in the Highlands area. I was on Lexington Road, having just turned off Shelbyville Road (or is it Frankfort Avenue there?), heading toward town. A guy in a sedan lowered his power window to helpfully let me know that it was rush hour.

How about that? What about it being rush hour changes any of the rules for polite behavior? What about it being rush hour (ignoring for the moment the oxymoronic nature of the expression, given that traffic so often moves more slowly during peak travel hours) changes whether I have reason to ride my bicycle to get where I am going?

And what of this issue of courtesy? Those who value themselves over all other road users tell me that a cyclist would be more courteous to get out of the way of faster, presumably more legitimate traffic. They ignore something that is pretty basic to the human experience: the principle of first-come, first-served.

I was there first, it's my turn to use the shared public space in a legal and legitimate manner. Just as you wait in line at the bank or at the grocery checkout lane, your turn at that piece of roadway will come, and you may then use the road in a law-abiding manner, just as I have. It shows amazing hubris to think that because my turn takes a few seconds more than yours, you should go first despite that you arrived after I did. THAT is rudeness.

Oh, and because I sometimes enjoy numbers, this is post 579 for this blog.

Stormy skies

A few hours after I typed my post ending August (or so I thought at the time), we got hit with a rain storm. Jenn and I were at a friend's house, celebrating her birthday, and returned to find a limb from the next-door property against the roof of the house.

In the rain, I went up for a look around. The only damage I found at the time was a hole in the roof between the front wall of my garage and the "show rafter," with some damage to the soffit between them on the underside, plus that several ridge cap shingles had gone missing. Jenn followed me back up to hold the light while I nailed down a heavy-duty garbage bag that was big enough to cover the hole.

The next afternoon, I took to removing a lot of the smaller branches from the limb that had fallen, to better assess the damage to my house.

the base of the limb, where it broke from the tree:

 

After a couple hours of sweaty sawing, I could get to my (not damaged) Bikes at Work trailer!

 

The view from the roof peak, prior to the sawing of branches:

 

After sawing some branches, looking away from the street:

 

After sawing some branches, looking at the damaged gutter (more inspection of which being difficult until the big limb was removed):

 

And a small pile of debris developed as we cleared stuff away from the house:

All in all, the damage to my house was minimal. The materials for the roof repair set me back less than fifty bucks. I'll do the work in about two hours, possibly less, on some cool morning (perhaps Saturday, the 14th). There is some gutter work to be done, in addition to the soffit repair. I'm hopeful that the reduction in tree cover on that corner will reduce the "need" for the gutter helmet--I'd rather clean my gutters easily once a month or so than fight that stupid system, as it lets junk into the gutters anyway and makes it harder to clean them. Don't even get me started on the very short gutter in front of my front door that collects water from a third of my roof...

Also on the damage list is the corner trim, hidden in these photos by the black compost bin. There was a six-inch branch pushing against the house at one point, and when I cut it away, it broke when there was a bit more than two inches to go in my cut, indicating the amount of tension on it.

All in all, however, if this is the worst damage my house ever gets due to storms and downed tree limbs, I'll be a happy camper.

There were, of course, additional concerns. The tree from which the limb fell stands on the property next door, on which a multi-unit apartment building stands. This tree lost a limb a couple summers ago, and THAT limb fell on a tenant's car. The tree has been deteriorating since, and should have been removed more than a year ago. That the tree also hosts a couple of two-inch-thick poison ivy vines has also been a concern for us and for the tenants next door. Although Kentucky law holds that I am responsible for paying the bills involved in repairing my house, AND removing the tree debris from my property, and that it's incrementally more money to remove what limb remained on the neighbor's property once the tree guys got there, it seems I would have a cause to ask for some assistance in paying the tree guys' bill. I've spoken with the property management company, and the folks there were cordial. They got me in touch with the property owner, who seemed cordial as well. We'll see what develops on that front, but in any case, I am going to continue pushing for removal of what's left of the tree, before it has a chance to fall on any building (like my house), a car, or a person.

Cycling (and cyclists) in the news

There has been a veritable flurry of bicycle-related news on the local front over the last week or so.

Sadly, one large bit of news came to us from the family of Joe Ward, as he passed away Thursday morning. Much has been and will be written of Joe, his gracious riding manners, his depth of cycling and local knowledge, his two books (I have autographed copies of each, and am mentioned in the foreword to the second one), and his sartorial style (he was one man I've seen make the corduroy knickers actually work!). As much as I would like to think otherwise, I don't have much to add to that commentary, aside from that I will miss him. He was a great guy.

The comment mill (actually, a different comment mill) got cranked up over a recent article in the CeeJ regarding the MUTCD R4-11 signs that have gone up on River Road.

Predictably, there were some who sided with Council Member Kelly Downard, who fails miserably at understanding the traffic laws applicable to the commentary he provided. I participated in the online melee, attempting to give rational basis for the positions I took.

A day or two later, a couple of letters to the Editor appeared, one even citing some sort-of relevant Kentucky Revised Statutes in favor of his apparent position that cyclists should stay to one side of the road. No, I couldn't resist the call to comment on those, either.

As a side note, here is an essay that helps one understand some of the irony in the anti-cyclists' position. In a nutshell, it details how cyclists' rights have been eroded over the last hundred years, and why that matters.

An anniversary

When Jenn proposed to me, way back in March of 2009, and I accepted (having some modicum of sense about me, even though I thought she had lost her mind for proposing...), we eventually figured out that our wedding date would be 9/9/9 (mindful that turning the numbers upside-down would yield 6/6/6, which gave us something of a giggle).

Events of that July were to intervene, and rather than pay COBRA insurance rates for two months, we married on July 17th. My sister observed that at least Jenn got two primes and a square, in addition to her somewhat-square hubby.

So, today is what would have been our fourth anniversary.

It still is our fourth, although not the one on the marriage license: we exchanged rings on 9/9/9, as by then we had gotten one that actually fit my finger (the largest ring Jenn had prior to that almost fit my little finger), and had gotten rings for Jenn sized properly.

Our honeymoon, such as it was, became riding the Century route on the Old Kentucky Home Tour a few days later.

And, here I am, four-plus years later, happily married. It's been an unbroken string of days, I'm happy to say.