As I Ride, A Season Unfolds

 This year, January and February were the coldest months I could recall for a number of years.  March was a roller-coaster, weather-wise, as it normally is, though I saw piles of snow and ice, reminders of the previous two months, almost until the Spring equinox.

Some people want the memory of such a winter erased, quickly and thoroughly. They want Spring to literally spring straight into summer.  Me, I enjoy seeing the season unfold. Cycling allows that: One day, I see cherry blossom,magnolia and crabapple petals folded into each other:  Are they hands holding the life they’re trying to protect, one not quite ready to come out to the world? Or are they begging, pleading, praying for a respite from the harshness of the season that might not be finished?

A day later, I see those same trees—or other cherry blossoms, magnolias and crabapples—with petals opened ever so slightly, as if they want to be sure that raindrop isn’t too cold or that ray of sunshine too strong to catch. The day after, they open still a bit more and are starting to flower.

And there is the sunshine of this time of year: clear, without the sharp edges of winter or summer’s haze. As much as I love it, I still can’t decide whether I prefer to see buds throbbing open and pulsating their colors reflected in the sun’s rays, or defiantly displaying their hues against an overcast sky, just ahead of a Spring rainstorm.

I love the seasons I experience on my bicycle.

 I hope your Easter is “out of this world.”

By Sebastian Millon

If You Kill A Cyclist, It’s Their Fault

Photo by Peter Silburn

Two weeks ago, the vilest utterance from a public official, at least that I can recall, spewed from the toxic pit that is the Fake Tan Führer’s mind.  Upon learning that Robert Mueller died, the entity who proved that 78 million Americans can be wrong sent this across the Twitterverse:  “Good, I’m glad he’s dead.” 

Perhaps it was an inevitable reaction from one of the basest beings on this planet to the passing of that increasingly rare office-holder: one who was respected by nearly everyone. But even for FTF, it was a level of moral bankruptcy and soiling of the English language I could not have anticipated.

Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. For decades, I have been a transportation, recreational, fitness and touring cyclist.  I also raced, if not with stellar results. During that time, much has changed. But a few things haven’t, including the way the media, law enforcement officials and much of the public react when a cyclist is killed or maimed.

George Hil, on the British website road.cc,  recounts such a firestorm of negativity when a cyclist was killed “in a collision with another vehicle” on a “not particularly dangerous “  road he regularly cycles and drives.  While he did not know the victim personally, he felt a sense of loss for him as a fellow cyclist and human being.

Those last two words were also lost in reactions on Facebook and other social media. “[Y]ou wouldn't think someone had died,” he relates, because commenters “focused on the person being a cyclist so it was probably their fault”  Perhaps the ugliest, and most clueless comment was this: “Don’t pick fights you can’t win, might is always right.”

“Might is always right.”  Could Cecil Rhodes have said it any more plainly? FTF probably had a similar thought when he decided to bomb Iran.

Anyway, as George Hill points out, such reactions encapsulate an all-too-common attitude when cyclists motorists kill or injure cyclists: “They should know better than to get in our way. They had it coming to them.” I’ve even heard people say, “Good!”:when a cyclist is run down.

Oh, and FTF hates cyclists.  As much as Robert Mueller, I don’t know. But it wouldn’t surprise me to hear him saying “Good, I’m glad” to the death of a cyclist on the road.