"Get On the Path, Dumb-Ass"

This morning's commute was a bit brisk. I had arm warmers, knee warmers, and a vest. I was chilled all the way to Cedar Avenue. East of Cedar, I encountered a Chevy SUV that passed me with some slackjawed yokel hanging out the window yelling, “Get on the path, dumb-ass!” This was 6:30 in the morning. We were the only things on the road. I don’t know what it is about this stretch of road. For the locals, it is the stretch between the lakes Hiawatha and Nokomis. The pavement is bad. The speed limit is 25 mph. There is no shoulder. The road is a bit on the narrow side. This is the same spot that the donut man buzzed me twice. Also, two years ago while heading west on this same stretch of road, a woman in a minivan passed me, and then slammed on her brakes as she tried to pinch me into the curb as she yelled profanities. She did this twice. I caught her at the Cedar light. This was in the evening, well after rush hour. There was little traffic, and heading west toward Cedar I can easily hit 30 on the slight downhill. I had her plates and reported her, but of course nothing was done.

I really wish the city would do something about that stretch of road, like widen it. The rest of the parkway is wide enough to keep most motorists’ tempers in check. The area is popular with bikes. The funny thing is that during my evening ride home, I’ll actually use the bike path because it is faster than the road. Cars are often backed up for blocks because the road is narrow, and someone is waiting to make a left turn. But 6:30 in the morning is no time for Cletus to get his panties in a knot. Anyway, it wasn’t enough to ruin my morning.

I made good time. As the sun started to rise, so did the temperature. There was a surreal vertical mist rising off the Mississippi. The water was so still that it appeared as though it were solid. I thought how downstream, the river wound through a zone of destruction called New Orleans, and how that was about as attached to that tragedy as I’ll ever be.

The usual morning crew was out and about along downtown Saint Paul. After I crossed 61, I encountered another day of exceptionally heavy traffic on Burns. It left me wondering if this was an alternate route for motorists while 94 was under construction. The residential area has been transformed into a steady stream of traffic feeding into 61 and Warner Road- maybe even 94 for I all know. I found the hill to be less offensive than it normally is. All the school children- most of them Asian- were out waiting for their buses. I felt as though I must appear completely alien to them in my bike gear. I wondered what sort of assumptions they must make about me. They see me every day at the same time as they wait by the street. This is not a heavily biked zone. I had a long wait to turn left onto White Bear Avenue. The foul odor of the Krispy Crème filled the air. After my little run in with Cletus and his cousin, I took the lane all the way across 94. No one was going to try to squeeze by me today. Besides, I was riding the speed of traffic. They can wait a few seconds for the single bike they will encounter during their harried drive to work.