The General has a way with words. [Petraeus]
That phrase describes this experience pretty well.
Incredibly more nuanced is an international city, and the approach must be in accord.
An approach to city riding – I’ll go anywhere… for reasons great or small.
“But must there be a reason?” asks the [hypothetical] young cylist.
“Yes, there should be at least one.” I reply.
This view is from up on the edge of a cliff long ago made
Yes, we’re going down there.
Get the best view of the worst of Interstate lunacy
without sitting in a mile long line of idling cars
Ride a bike! Ride with your friend to work. It doesn’t have to be pretty or car-free.. There is ALWAYS A REASON.
Here we got a wrong side sidewalk and steep stairs.
Not that bad, really. Nothing to complain about, it just is…. unless the big earthquake strikes.
Going bumpity bump down 4 courses of Seattle stairs the other day, I pictured what a fall would be like (with the plastic bottom Sidi shoes)
and then stopped to rest my hands, contemplated walking, went down two more, front wheel reasonably gripping the stair edges, but still…
I stopped this nonsense by walking the last three or four sets. I’m sure I broke some minor code, but I don’t care to look it up.
It gets dirty. Bikes can pass through Spokane st. and onto the West Seattle bridge, but through, for real, some shit. The empty Semis are barreling down one side and merging here and there, and the full ones occupy the other. The path breaks, starts again on the other side of clusterfuck, and then goes again to the other side through an intersection where clearly bikes do not belong. It was no time for pictures, this was all tactical death avoidance.
The beach and condominiums for miles on the other side: uninteresting, largely… though a beach is always nice.
The way back is just as gnarly due to debris, trucks, and bicycles having been completely left out of the planned infrastructure. We stopped in a little triangle of glass bespeckled pavement between the road and the merging IN lane, to avoid some fast moving semis paying much more attention to each other than us. Soon, we were in loose dirt where a sidewalk might be someday. I shoved a fucking sign that said “Sidewalk closed” out of my way. At that point, I wanted out of the mess so I crossed the tracks and negotiated my way back to 1st.
We are riding under loud overpasses and unable to talk. Dirt, large rocks, curb, and back to pavement. This ride ends with Silas going to the Hall and me going to the wine outlet at 1st and Holgate. Can’t find a place to buy the tool I need in the Industrial South, but at least I have found the store that sells cones, face shields and reflective shit, I can find good wine, and have found lots of challenging terrain.
Riding in this city feels more dangerous than some others I’ve been to. It’s something that keeps many others inside the car while on the streets. It’s a fallacy that the car is safer.
See, for me – Seattle is bike friendly in a ‘more nuanced’ way.