Unfortunately, this is a subject I think about quite often...when I'm riding.  I find myself upset at cars quite often.  Yesterday, I was going around a large pot hole and a car approached and beeped and yelled at me to "get out of the road".  I hadn't moved in front of them, they just thought I didn't belong there.  I often almost get hit, I get cut off, I have things thrown at me, etc.  All of these things really make me angry at drivers: I mean really angry!  I spend too many rides fuming over these drivers.  This does at times lead to some pretty fast "angry rides", but I'm not sure it is worth the extra speed.

Two days ago I was going to a group ride that started at a bike shop.  When I pulled into the parking lot, there was one open space with several riders standing in front of it talking.  I politely pulled up to the space and signaled that I wanted to park there.  The riders continued talking and showed little interest in moving.  I inched up and they very slowly  moved a couple inches out of the way.  I squeezed into the space and they didn't so much as acknowledge me as I pulled in.  When I ride with this same group we are usually prepped with a talk about being polite and respecting the rules of the road and the busy traffic.  Nevertheless, some of the riders habitually run red lights and show no regard for traffic.  I've seen some of these riders riding four abreast and when other riders called "car back" over and over the other riders didn't even look.  I can only imagine that this infuriates the drivers.  God knows my father always complains about "kids on bikes in Cambridge".

So who is the culprit in this feud?  Who "drew first blood"?  Well, I suspect both sides feed off of each other's insults and past transgressions.  However, if I had to point my finger I'd point it at a lack of education.  Bike riders don't always know the rules of the road, and driver's know even less.  After all, if you think the bike belongs on the sidewalk, you're certainly going to get testy when one has the audacity to ride on the road.

The winter is at hand, and it is time to make that yearly decision: rough it outside or ride the trainer indoors.  Last year I chose to ride the trainer indoors.  It was really effective.  I went to a class twice a week at a bike shop and they put me through a rigorous 1-1.5 hour workout.  In the end it really paid off.  When spring hit, I was riding like a champ and able to do my first century not long after.  But I also must admit that by the end I was bored senseless.

Each session we'd watch a DVD of a Tour de France or Paris-Roubaix.   At first, it was pretty cool.  But they only seemed to have a handful of DVDs.  I quickly found myself watching the same couple of DVDs over and over again.

There was no wind, no scenery, no freedom, no fun.  It made me realize the reasons that I rode.  I rode to because it was fun.  I could go anywhere (that my legs could take me), see anything, enjoy the fun of rolling along quickly into the wind.  However, I also remembered that one of the reasons I wasn't riding outside was that it was so cold that outside wasn't fun anymore either.

So this year, I have invested heavily in winter clothing: two pairs of tights, a new set of winter booties, a pair of lobster mitts, a neck gaiter, and a hat....I guess that is what it is called....it goes on my head and makes me look like I'm about to go swimming.

My coldest ride so far has been a 31 degree ride.  My toes and my fingers were both pretty cold.  The good news is that I hadn't taken out the lobster mitts yet. The bad news is that I had wool socks and winter booties on.   The temperature around here will hover in the 0-20 range for most of the winter or about 4-5 months of the year.

From what I can tell, fingers and toes are the key.  My torso is the easiest to keep warm.  A couple layers and a wind-breaking jacket do the job.  My head is pretty easy too.  In fact, the hard part is how much my head warms up over a ride and the need to be warm at the start.  The face can be tricky too, but a balaclava and a pair of sunglasses seem to do the trick.

The legs are the next coldest part.  A pair of bib shorts under a pair of tights doesn't cut it.  I am not in pain (yet), but I am certainly cold to the touch.  A pair of long tights under a pair of winter tights keeps me pretty warm (for now).  I'm not sure what will happen when it gets colder, but I think this won't be a problem.

Next comes the fingers.  These are tough, too.  They are always cold at the start of a ride and often get warm over the course of a ride.  The good news is that it is easy to bring along a couple of pairs of varying weight gloves.  I am hoping that the lobster mitts will get me through the winter, but if they don't a pair of wool gloves under them might do the trick.

Finally, there are the feet.  The feet are really hard to keep warm.  My old booties were too light so I bought heavier ones.  Combined with wool socks and I was still cold.  My next idea is two pairs of socks under the booties, but my shoes are probably too tight for a whole lot in the way of socks.  I had read that multiple layers of booties is a good option (won't restrict blood flow like multiple pairs of socks).  However, my feet are so incredibly large I can barely get one pair of booties around them, never mind two.

My plan for this year?  To try both.

...I also bought a new trainer.

I've had a couple of close calls with cars in the past that over take me and take a right.   I remember having read that this is one of the most common types of accident.  Perhaps it was only a matter of time, but yesterday it happened.  A car overtook me and took a right hand turn into me.

The hit was a bit frightening, but it was slow and I mostly just slid down the side of the car.  I came away with some scratches and bruises, but was glad when I realized my fragile hip was still intact.  There was an ambulance two cars back and they took me to the hospital just to be sure about my stupid hip.  I was horrified though when the police officer came into the hospital and told me he didn't cite the driver.  He said that the damage on the driver's car was towards the back so it was my fault as I hit him.  I was completely mortified.  I had damaged the back section of the car because that is the part that I slid down, not the part I necessarily impacted.  When I tried to explain this, the officer said I need to follow the rules of the road even though I was on a bicycle.  I told him I had and that I was allowed to pass on the right on a bicycle.  He either didn't care or didn't want someone to contradict him as he was certainly unfazed by my explanation.  I think the cause of all of this is general ignorance of bicycling laws and the lack of suburban cyclists.  When everyone in town rides their Huffy mountain bike on the sidewalk ignoring the rules of the road, no one expects a bicyclist to be part of traffic, knows the actual rules, or believes a rider who tries to explain that he was following the rules.

In the end, my argument didn't really matter, as the driver has no insurance....even though everyone in Massachusetts is required by law to have it.   So, that was kind of a bummer.

I always go out of my way to obey the rules of the road....even if it means waiting for a car to pull up behind me to cause the red light to finally trigger even though there is no traffic on the road I want to turn onto.  So I guess what upsets me the most is the officer's implication that the accident was somehow my fault....well that and the fact that I wore a nerdy hi-vis vest for the first time, still got hit, and the vest ripped...grrr!

So I disappeared.....for a long time.  I highly suspect no one really cares, but I always feel guilty suddenly stopping.  I described this blog as a journal of my love affair with biking.  Perhaps that was a mistake. I still love biking, but like any love affair, the highs always precede the lows.  When I started riding my bike as an adult I instantly fell in love (though I also loved it as a child). I rode further and further each time and was so proud of my accomplishments.  I was able to ride far and able to ride fast.  I did my first century. I felt so free and so amazing.

Then I broke my hip when I took what seemed like a harmless spill off my bike onto a rock.  It was the most painful and difficult thing I'd ever endured, but I worked hard and got back onto the bike.  I was able to ride again before I could walk.  Actually, two years later, I still don't walk right.  I limp, fatigue quickly, and experience pain almost constantly.  The doctors have no idea why, and I've lost hope that it'll get better. Like any good love affair, I'm riddled with scars and pain.

I worked hard to get back onto the bike and ride.  I grew stronger and just appreciated being able to ride, never mind being fast or able to ride far. Yet, I was determined to get back to my previous riding condition.  Yet, only a few months into being back on the bike I suffered another setback.  I was hit by a car.

It was a bad hit and truthfully I think the car took the worst of it.  Yet, I left the accident with anger and fear.  The roads, once my playground, were suddenly unnerving and scary.  Angry and reckless drivers seemed to haunt me everywhere I went.  Yet, I wasn't going to let fear keep me off the road.  The anger was worse still.  The police refused to cite the driver. The driver didn't have any insurance. I just couldn't get past the anger of how unjust it was.  This was compounded by continually sharing the road with drivers who were dangerous and sometimes outright hostile.  But I pressed on.

Not long after that I was riding with my best friend (and it felt better to ride with a friend - there is less fear and it feels safer somehow), when masochistic flagellation turned to sadism.  Biking was nothing special to my friend: he just wanted to exercise.  On the ride he had an accident.  I was in front of him, so I didn't see it, but the long and short of it is that he flipped over his handle bars after hitting a pot hole and he hit his head (with a helmet securely on).  I ran to him to find him seizing in the road as his front wheel spun in circles in the center of the street.  The ambulance came and took him away.

Breaking my hip was nothing compared to the pain of watching my best friend in a medical induced coma as his brain swelled and bled from the traumatic brain injury.  Seeing him and not knowing if he'd survive was awful.  Having to look his mother in the eye was almost as bad.  Not knowing what he'd be like when he awoke was probably the worst.  He did finally awaken.  Half his body was paralyzed and he couldn't remember much of the previous year.  His recovery was incredibly difficult.  It isn't over yet either.  I'm not sure if it ever will be.

This incident shook me to the core and really it still does.  Getting back on the bike wasn't easy after that, but I knew I had to face my fear and embrace my love.  Honestly, riding hasn't been the same.  I still love it and still work hard at it.  I even did another century.  But every ride is haunted by thoughts of that accident.  Every minute of every ride.  It's not as bad if I ride with a buddy, but how can I invite friends to ride with me after that experience?

My love affair seems to have turned abusive.  At the end of last season, I decided to try a bike race, and it resulted in my fracturing my clavicle.  A very common occurrence for a bicyclist, yet still quite a painful one, and one that simply compounds the other accidents. I feel those around me react when they hear of each new accident.  They shake their heads as if I'm an addict who just won't learn.   Perhaps they're right.

I do still love riding, and I plan to ride this season as well as I think it is wrong and perhaps a bit superstitious to be scared away from something you love.  Yet, I can't bring myself to post regularly on this blog.  No one wants to hear about my obsession, and I feel quite humbled and like maybe I should just shut up.