I nearly ran over a kid on a bicycle with my bus, Friday night. Scared the living shit right outta me, along with a couple attentive riders. The kid, unknowingly sped off, never realizing how close he came to becoming a crimson stain on the asphalt. I joked that my britches were still dry, but in reality, I spent the next ten minutes taking deep breaths to overcome the high level of anxiety I was experiencing from the ordeal.
I would estimate that about ninety percent of those I tell what I do for a living, all repeat the same comment: F*ckin' bike lanes. While I agree that the bike lanes do impede progress on some streets, even going so far as to reduce public parking for automobiles, they're not the bane of my driving existence. My peeve are the cyclists who insist on riding in traffic, immersing themselves alongside speeding motorists.
I don't know if it's a bi-law or whatever, but for some reason, a majority of cyclists ride in traffic, which causes more problems than it solves. While I agree they probably shouldn't ride on public sidewalks in the downtown area, I can't say the same for the arteries leading out of the downtown. Streets where there isn't congested foot traffic, I don't see a problem with cyclists riding their bikes on sidewalks. It's safer for them and safer for us motorists. There's less stress and ultimately less anger and confrontation. Or at the very least, those who insist on riding their bikes on street surfaces, should find a less traveled route. Side streets and such. Areas where they're less likely come up on the losing end of a fight with the bumper of a car and no offense, but you're goofy looking helmet is not going to protect shit, when that happens.
I have no problem with anyone who chooses to ride a bicycle over climbing behind the wheel of a motor car, but at the same time, I have no empathy for the cyclist when they ultimately do meet face-to-face with an automobile. I'm a firm believer that bicycles belong on the sidewalk, not in the street.
Most modern sidewalks are built quite wide. Certainly city planners could make them in such a way that both cyclist and pedestrian could share the space. They already do so in the newer parts of town with the bike/hiking trails and shit. No reason why the same can't be done elsewhere, too.
I understand that not everyone can afford a car and at the ever fluctuating prices of gas and diesel, even I have thought maybe another form of conveyance would be best, but in the end, I come to my senses and continue to drive. That aside, for those who do choose to cycle rather than drive, should do so with an ounce of consideration. Consideration to those who do require the city streets and the limited spaces available do successfully travel and also consideration for their own safety. Getting hit by a vehicle is no picnic. I've had fender benders in my youth and it hurts. Both physically and mentally. Getting hit by a Buick while riding your Schwinn is far worse, often ending in death. Is it really worth it?
IF, and that's a big IF, a person is capable of keeping up with traffic speeds, ie. 30km, 40km, 50km or more, then hell yeah! Welcome to the fast lane, young chap! However, if you are not able and we (drivers) forced to follow behind your sorry ass, because you're too stubborn or too proud or too ignorant to pull over to allow us to pass, then you're an asshole. Plain and simple.
I can't count how many times I've been stuck behind some asshole riding his bike down 20th Street in Saskatoon, with three giant bags of recycling slung over his shoulder, meandering back and forth across two lanes, like he's riding his bike down a summer trail next to a babbling brook. It's infuriating. You can't pass the dumb son-of-a-bitch, because there's a fairly good chance he may stray in front of you.
I can't say for sure what is worse. These drunken idiots on their bikes or the assholes who act like they're a passenger vehicle until they have to follow the rules, like stopping at a red light. That's when they decide that they're no longer a motor vehicle and now they make up their own rules and plunge forth, cutting through a busy intersection. I would have to take my shoes and socks off to count how many near-miss accidents I've witnessed as these bicycle short wearing motherf*ckers cut through an intersection of cross-traveling motorists. On Preston and 8th, alone, I've seen nearly a dozen. Maybe more in the downtown district.
I haven't witnessed anyone getting smoked, yet, but will likely chuckle when I do. It'd be justified. If you're gonna act like a dumb piece of shit, don't be surprised when you get rundown like a dumb piece of shit.
Friday night, it was dark. Real dark. The time was around eleven o'clock at night. One of my final runs for FolkFest. I was traveling east on Taylor Street, waiting at the lights for some pedestrians to cross Arlington Avenue. My destination was a mere few feet from that point, when it was clear to proceed, I began to make my turn when a darkly dressed kid, meandered around my bus, nearly getting himself squashed in the process. I sounded my horn, but the kid never flinched. Just kept riding, quickly disappearing into the darkness. It scared the bejesus outta me, sending me spiraling quickly into a state of anxiety. If I would have hit the kid, it'd reflect poorly on me. They say in training to be intuitive of everyone around you. Three hundred and sixty degrees around you, you need to be aware of what everyone may or may not do. For the most part, I can do that. I can't, however, speculate the actions of a dumb little bastard who appeared out of nowhere.
If I would have run the little fella down, would I have felt terrible? Perhaps. Probably more so for myself than for him. I can't feel bad for the actions made by a stupid person. I would have felt horrible for myself. I'm still under probation for the next few months and I don't want to lose this gig. It's pretty cool, for the most part. I like it and it pays well. A selfish position to be in, perhaps, but it's nevertheless true.
These words that I type, tonight, won't solve anything. I will get up tomorrow morning and go back to work. I'll start up my bus and drive my assigned route and will undoubtedly cross paths with another selfish, overindulgent cyclist who believes the street is for his use only and motorists be damned. Nothing I say in these few paragraphs is going to change any minds. More than likely, anyone who's spent any time getting to this point in the blog, will likely side with the cyclists and call me an asshole. Whatever. This has been therapeutic.
There was one bicycle rider that I knew once upon a time. He was a friend of my mom. They'd grown up together, going to school. He'd lived in the city, here, almost as long as she has. His name was Donald and he was a little person.
Donald used to live in the same neighbourhood as my mom and delivered the flyers to her street. One evening, Donald was riding his bike down the street. Being a little person, he wasn't able to ride a regular sized bike, opting instead to ride a child-sized bike. He had been riding along the parking lane of the street, out of the drive lane, but some distracted fella in a pick up truck, ran over Donald on his little bicycle. Run him over and proceeded to drag the poor guy for several blocks before the inherent sound of scraping and clanging forced the driver to stop and make the grisly discovery. Donald, obviously, did not survive.
When I first learned of Donald's demise and how it had occurred, I was extremely disturbed. The thought of what must've been going through Donald's mind in those final moments of his life was quite disturbing to me on a personal level. It's not something I'd ever want to experience in my own life. That being said, if Donald had been riding his little bike on the sidewalk, he'd still be alive today.
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