Morons

One evening this week I swapped roles and became a pedestrian on the route I usually bike-commute on, the sidewalk along Grand River Avenue between Okemos and East Lansing. I did the walk after dark, so I experienced all sorts of idiotic night-biking behavior.

There was the moron barreling along with no lights, no reflectors, at top speed. He had to slam on his brakes when I stepped in his path.

There was the moron . . . well, he wasn't exactly a moron . . . well, OK, he was almost a moron: He was roaring along in the heavy 45 mph two lanes no shoulder rush-hour traffic (remember, in the dark) as if he were one of them. You know: Same rules, same rights. He had magnificent lighting--multiple taillights, good bright headlight, reflectors galore--but, let's face it, he was asking to die. He will die honorably, doing the right thing, striking a blow for the cause of bicyclist equality, but dead is dead. Not a moron, but insane.

Then there were the two morons riding on the sidewalk (where, I'm sorry to say, considering how dangerous Grand River Avenue is, they belonged), with good headlights and other safety gear, but they were riding SIDE BY SIDE. On the sidewalk. In the dark. They forced me, the humble pedestrian, onto the grass.

People! When you must ride on the sidewalk in the dark, remember: Pedestrians have no lights; pedestrians are the rightful inhabitants of the sidewalk--you are an interloper; maybe, just maybe, it's a good idea to slow down a little; and (DUH!) use lights.

The Final Tour of 2010

This is a belated posting about a two-day ride I took at the end of August. The purpose of the ride was to explore the possibility of multi-100-mile-day short tours, perhaps five days each, that would take me across the country in 8 years. 

This final big ride of the season took me from Empire to Okemos. I didn’t pretend that it was a quality camping or bike-touring experience. No campfires. No cowboy coffee. No. I set off from Empire at 7:30 and worked my way down very very familiar roads, roads I have driven hundreds of times, riding riding riding. 

It’s amazing how that changes your sense of time and distance. You’d think it would be frustrating, covering in two hours what the car can cover in 20 minutes, but somehow it’s not. It doesn’t actually feel longer, in the sense that you hold in your head this idea of how long it’s going to take, and then you let it tick down. Twenty minutes in a car feels like a long time. Two hours on a bike feels like a long time. Maybe it’s the inactivity of riding in a car vs. the activity of riding the bike. Or maybe just the opposite: the constant pushpushpushpush of your legs on the pedals is mesmerizing, perhaps. Or maybe the trance state you enter while driving has a faster clock, so it doesn’t feel shorter than two hours of biking. I don’t know. 

But it was a nice day for a ride. Quite strong tail wind, nice cool temperature. The Betsie Valley Trail leading into Thompsonville was quite nice. M-115 was fine until Mesick, then horrible and terrifying. I got off it and rambled at right angles on lovely hilly roads to Cadillac. M-115 between Cadillac and Clare has a six-foot shoulder, so it felt like a bike path (but one with semis driving right next to it).

I arrived in Clare, bought a Little Caesar’s large pepperoni pizza for $6. I ate three slices outside the store, then loaded the rest into a zip-lock bag to take to my campsite, which was 5 miles east of town. I was going to stealth camp, but the campground (Herrick Park) was exactly on my route. I needed to detour no more than 1/4 mile. The downside was that it cost $25, and I had no buddy to share the cost with. The upside was that it was almost completely deserted. There were no other campers in sight. I went to bed as soon as it was dark (9:00) and got up at 5:00. 

Since I was equipped for night riding, I packed up and set off at 6:00, riding east, so I watched the sky lighten and turn orange before the sun came up. Pretty. Mrs TomTom told me that there was a variety store in Coleman, 7 miles away. Sure enough, there it was. (You can count on Mrs. TomTom.) Did they have delicious pastries? Hot breakfast sandwiches? No. Bad coffee and Little Debbie was my breakfast. Then ride ride ride. One McDonald’s stop in Ithaca, otherwise, not many stops. 

This second day felt fine, except my butt boils starting acting up. You don’t want to know more. But this would be a problem if I were doing more than two 100-mile days, or a 400 km “brevet”. I still don’t know how people do that, ride 240 miles in one shot. They start at 4:00 in the morning and ride until midnight. How do they do that?

In any case, I arrived in Okemos at about 3:00. The mileage for the first day was 110 miles, for the second it was 95. That counts as two 100-mile days. Could I have done three more? Maybe.