Yesterday, it being a holiday, I took Dog to the P-A-R-K. (This being a blog, my being away from Dog, and the fact that Dog cannot read, all together, do not seem to have overcome my habit of spelling out that word to avoid the quivering full-body excitement that speaking that word aloud incites in Dog.) Well, that's not completely honest: Husband had a study partner at the house for the purposes of tackling calculus, and our house is 715 square feet, many of which can seemingly be simultaneously occupied by Dog, especially when a week of rain has kept him cooped up in his dog house; also, he is extremely enthusiastic about visitors. It seemed disrespectful of the study group to lounge on the couch and watch TV while Dog molested the study partner, not to mention the TV could prove distracting (to them). And I had an invitation to join a couple of friends and their puppy at the p-a-r-k. It took all of these factors combined to motivate me to change out of my pajamas and pile Dog in the car, and then we went to the p-a-r-k.
I had printed directions from the internet, but all the park entrance roads were closed and I spent some time being lost, asking for directions, retracing my path, giving up, parking, and hiking up a substantial elevation change on sodden unpaved soil, but we eventually arrived at the dog p-a-r-k. Incidentally, if I have any readers and if said readers happen to be dog owners, how is one expected to navigate such terrain whilst keeping the dog on-leash? The p-a-r-k rules are very specific as to this necessity, but I feel strongly that had I not released my grip on the leash on at least two occasions, Dog and I both would likely have sustained falling-related injuries. His strategy is to speed up -- which works well on the descent as he avoids the problem of inertia that threatens to deliver me to the bottom on my backside, but causes substantial loss of traction on the ascent and threatens anyone within, say, a six-foot radius. Isn't it ironic that the required dog leash is six feet long? Dog is accustomed to being off-leash at our usual dog p-a-r-k and allows me to reclaim his leash after hills...and I don't really see a viable alternative. But I digress.
After overcoming the motivational, navigational, road-closure confrontational, and elevational challenges involved in arriving at the dog p-a-r-k, there were no dogs there. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration: there were three dogs there who left within five minutes of our arrival. We hung out for a while hoping for company and one more showed up, but she was elderly and had no interest in entertaining a giant puppy. So we walked back down to the car and loaded Dog inside.
A minivan had just parked in front of us on the street and its various passengers were gradually disembarking. The kids piled out onto the sidewalk, but Presumed Grandma stood, oblivious, in the middle of the street. It's a downhill slope with a speed limit of 30 mph, and the particular spot in which we were situated followed a more-or-less blind curve...so, basically, she was awaiting road kill status. Presumed Dad made gestures suggesting Presumed Grandma remove herself to the sidewalk. I sat and waited. Finally, Presumed Dad took Presumed Grandma by the arm and placed her on the sidewalk. I began slowly creeping out of my parking space, alternately cranked 180 degrees backward to see approaching traffic descending from the blind curve, and checking back to see that no children or feeble-minded elderly persons had ventured into my path. These maneuvers were repeated multiple times. As you can see, I am a very conscientious driver. When I finally pulled out and cleared the minivan, I punched the accelerator because, well, you know, I was entering traffic and must get up to speed. That's when the biker (bicyclist, not motorcyclist) cursed me out from the other lane.
Clearly, he had been coming down the hill in the right-hand lane, not that I could see him since he came around a blind curve and was hidden by parked cars. Clearly, he had been able to see me pulling out, since he didn't crash into my rear end. Clearly, since his vehicle has no walls, it is in his best interest to be hyperaware of his surroundings. I felt awful, even though it wasn't my fault. But then he cut me off. Seriously, who the fuck cuts off a car on a bicycle? That's worse than standing in the middle of the street, tempting fate. That's deliberately putting oneself in harm's way, apparently to make a point, or to exact some revenge? I don't know. So I hit my brakes, created a reasonable following distance, and we coasted tandem to the bottom of the hill, where there is a stop sign. The high and mighty bicyclist, of course, blew right through the stop sign, just as I was expecting. Since I was stopped at said stop sign, I may have taken the opportunity to remark (or yell down the street) that stop signs also apply to asshole bicyclists.
Lest I offend anyone, please allow me to state for the record that I share the road at every opportunity. I have never once hit a bicyclist or pedestrian -- never even come close -- although I myself was hit by cars three times in college while riding my bicycle. I was riding legally every time, and the drivers broke the law: 1. Didn't look right while turning right, 2. Didn't look behind when pulling out from street parking, 3. I don't know what happened but he hit me from behind which was just ridiculously incompetent. At the same time, as a bicyclist I realize that I am less visible than a car to other drivers, and that (as my junior high track coach phrased it) cars win all ties. If you're a bicyclist on the road, you're a vehicle. You have all the rights of a vehicle, as well as all the responsibilities. You can't expect to be protected by the laws when you don't obey them: traffic laws exist to create a common understanding regarding right-of-way, safe speeds, etc. I know it sucks to lose all that downhill momentum because of a stupid stop sign, and to have to start from zero again. But if you want to play with the big kids out on the road and escape with your various body parts intact, that's what's required. And you lose all credibility when your supercilious ass flies through stop signs after bitching at drivers who are doing their very best to be careful of everyone else.
Here's a link to a video -- it doesn't show the actual accident and everyone was okay, but it resulted from a bicyclist running a stop sign and hitting (not being hit by) a car. Bicyclist runs stop sign, collides with car.
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