I’m kind of a skittish bike commuter. I don’t like riding in traffic or near trucks or buses. But, as it is impossible to get downtown efficiently without facing these challenges, I have sucked it up.
After three rides up and down Elston at rush hour, I must admit I’m beginning to like it. The bike lane is luxuriously wide and well-marked. It’s sort of a bike commuting highway, so there are always other bikes around, which I like.
And having faced down a hazard I didn’t even imagine existed, I’m feeling super tough.
See, yesterday, as I was heading home on Elston, the Joads passed by heading in the opposite direction. Just before they passed me, random stuff started falling out of the truck—paint cans, pots, pans, possibly a chair. (I might be exaggerating a little).
As the clanging metal objects bounced about on the road, the Joads sped off toward a new life as migrant workers. I gasped for a second, but then, like the newly tough bike commuter that I am, just kept on riding.