Up and at ’em early this morning, pumping tires and strapping bikes to the back of the car. Donna, Quentin, and I met our friend Mary Anne and her granddaughter Jade at Brandi Fenton Park for a short ride up and down the Rillito bikeway. Q-Dawg held up pretty well, heat and all, and we got a few miles in before Jadie — yep, naming names here — started whinging about the heat and we had to turn back.
We stopped at a local eggery afterward, ate breakfast, and came home to jump in the pool. Photos? Of course! Click the thumbnails to enlarge:
Update (later, same morning): I know this will clash with the happy nature of the post, but while I was reloading the bicycles after our ride, I heard someone swearing and looked up to see a bicyclist confronting a motorist in the parking lot. Apparently the driver had stopped in the parking lot to allow the bicyclist to get by, and the bicyclist was loudly lecturing the driver to make up her fucking mind, how hard can that be, Jesus, etc.
Two things:
- Clearly, the driver of the car stopped because she didn’t know what the bicyclist was going to do, and thought stopping to let him go by was the safest option. How many times have we seen bicyclists do unpredictable things? If she hadn’t stopped, and the bicyclist had done something stupid and wound up getting hurt, she would have been at fault.
- I yell at other drivers all the time. If they inconvenience me in the slightest way, I give them a piece of my mind … usually from the safety of my own car, but sometimes when I’m on my bicycle too. I never stop to think whether other drivers might have a reason for doing whatever piss-me-off thing they’re doing.
The bicyclist was being an asshole. I’m an asshole too. I’m going to try to work on that.