On my 1 1/2 mile ride home tonight, I saw no fewer than six other cyclists – more than any other day, combined.
One girl in full road bike kit pulled up next to me at the stoplight; we exchanged “Hi”s and “Nice weather!”s and then she turned right and I went straight.
I passed this guy on a stripped-down commuter number; I gave him the two-finger steeringwheel wave (well, bike approximation thereof) and a friendly nod; he looked at me like I had two heads and passed by without a word.
I saw the following items on the shoulder of the road: 1 full chicken dinner from the place down the street (looks like it fell off the roof of someone’s car), 2 scratched CDs, 1 baby squirrel, and too many empty PBR cans to count.
As I turned onto my street and rode past the same group of kids I see every day, they waved and offered their customary calls of “Hi, lady!”. I thumbed my bike’s bell – a chirpy brrringbrrring! – and they cheered as only happy five-year-olds can.
Now I ask – would any of that have happened if I in a car?