Bicycle Canticles

Commute this morning:

Stopped at a red light, waiting to turn left from Mossland onto Somerville Ave. Construction everywhere! Cones and men in neon vests galore. Two cyclists stopped at the light in front of me, in the teeny, single-bike-lane-space between the lane of traffic and holes in the ground. The second man is shaking his head impatiently at the back of the first cyclist’s head, waving to to make the point of “will you please move?” for the sake of everybody behind them. I said to the back of HIS head,

“He’s stopped at the red light. That is fine.”

…for the sake of education. Shortly after they both took off, running the red light. Fine, whatever, I thought, didn’t notice any rhyme or reason to this, and continued to wait.  I waited. I waited. I (this is a really long light) waited, until a (I think) Somerville police officer whistled (like you would at your dog, not like I’m a bombshell walking down the street with fancy high heels and tight-fitting dress) at me and said,

“HEY, cyclist, Go.”
“Uh. I have a red light.”
“I’m telling you to go. I can do that.”
“That’s confusing.”
“It shouldn’t be.”

No words to the driver next to me, who was also waiting for the red light.

Sorry, officer, I didn’t realize you get to decide which vehicles qualify as vehicles, and apply the law accordingly at your whim. (I think I said something along the lines of “You don’t know your laws, officer!” as I rode off.)

Later, on Broadway in front of Akamai, police officer on motorcycle pulled into the bike lane in front of me, turned on his spinny lights as warning to a shiny Lincoln town car in front of him, which was parked in the bicycle lane. Thanks officer, I know you meant well, but what you actually did was cut me off, too, so that I have to go around both of you.  Next time: maybe you could at least issue them a ticket for parking in the bike lane?

I have a < 5 mile ride into work. That’s two too many things to report.

Brighter notes! Commute home yesterday:

SUN! Oh my.

Lady cyclist was pulled over by two Cambridge bicycle police officers for running a red light in front of Lord Hobo. They were sneaky: I didn’t see them at all until one jumped out to stop the cyclist. She carried her bike onto the sidewalk rather dejectedly. No idea if they issued a ticket or warning. I don’t like that this is likely a bad cycling experience for her, but I did celebrate a little bit on the inside for justice. That Cambridge team of officers on bicycles are pretty right on  (don’t get me started on Boston bicycle police that hang out around Downtown Crossing).

Soon after, on Beacon, I passed by a lovely cyclist with twin kids seas attached to her bicycle just behind the main saddle. The seats were painted bright blue with yellow polka dots. She said a friend built it and she did the paint job. It’s awesome, I gushed. Bicycle also sported a license plate that read “One Less Mini Van.”

I’d like to be half as cool as her when I’m a mom.

Approaching mid-March. SCUL Season soon! The preparations have begun. More on this later.