Acting Like a Whiney Oppressed Minority

(BTW- apparently "whiny" can be spelled either way. Who knew?)

OK- I anticipated the ride home, expecting a showdown at the orange fence. I had righteousness on my side, and my wife truly was my better half on this sunny day- since I was in poor form. As we approached the portion of the fence where we could step over, a skinny young security guard in his security guard polo shirt- sporting an enormous neck brace (worthy of a thousand bad lawyer jokes) efficiently intercepted me after I entered the forbidden zone. He told us we couldn't enter. I suggested there were no signs, no alternate routes, that there was no access to the road, and on and on. He must have been well trained, since he didn't discuss any of this and told me if we didn't leave he'd call the police.

This brought out the worst in me. I suggested that he do that, and that the police would do nothing about the situation (which was probably true if my work experience with police was any indication how these situations were dealt with). My wife suggested that we just go, but of course, I was just getting started. Eventually her good sense prevailed, but not before the security guard disclosed that the reason the area was fenced off was that it contained thousands of dollars of fireworks for the Taste of Minnesota festival directly across the river.

My wife and I found our way across Shepard Road, then back to the open portion of the bike trail. Of course this debacle was incomplete, and my wife chastised me by using my own advise against me- that I need to pick and choose my battles more carefully. She went on to point out that I had a chip on my shoulder about biking that gets played out here and elsewhere, and that I have negativity associated with that. She even brought up the point that rather than advocating for biking in any positive or meaningful way, my asshole behavior toward the security guard could just as easily provoke him to resent bikes, or to buzz the next cyclist he encountered. I didn't exactly like hearing all that, especially right at that point- ironically as we took the tunnel under 35E, that must have cost at least a hundred thousand dollars to improve the safety of the bike paths.

We had a rather sullen ride home, which was as easily attributed to a Friday commute and the fact that she has been far too busy with relatives staying with us to sneak much biking into her schedule. After we returned home, I took a solo ride to clear my head. By now, things were sinking in. Somehow, I had turned into the opposite of the crazy drivers that love to point out when a biker rolls through a stop sign. I was going out of my way to highlight the indignities endured while commuting. For whatever reason, I have a very different, more laid-back attitude while on my road bike. But commuting by bike- that is a noble endeavor that emboldened my sense of self-righteousness- and it was bringing out a nasty side that was looking for trouble among those (motorists or security guards) worthy of my ire. It certainly does nothing to further the advocacy of cyclists' rights. And it reflects poorly upon my character.

I hereby resolve to focus on the positive aspects of cycling and to not go out of my way to look for the rare transgressions against cyclists- the exceptions to the rule. Let's face it, thousands of cars pass us without incident. I ride thousands of trouble-free miles. Why do I even provoke security guards? I will do my best to not focus on the injustices. I will not advocate for "getting even." I will not act like this is a battle between good and evil. Far from the cosmic proportions it can be blown up to be, most people really don't care. I really doubt it is easy to make much of a difference on the street by yelling at a driver. The best way to make a difference is probably to set a good example. Trouble is, it is far less immediately satisfying.

On a lighter note, I saw a 60-something year-old woman on a bike with a large basket with a radio riding in my neighborhood. Later, I saw her at Lunds loading her basket with groceries. In the grand scheme of things, it is way cooler than seeing someone in a full CSC kit riding a Cervelo. And I somehow don't think she views the world with the same antagonism I've been fixated on lately.