No, being late is no reason to drive. Pack clothes, kiss wife on the cheek, open the garage an get the bike out. Exhale a large sigh. Look both ways, reset the bike computer, set the pedal and push off. A neighbor is backing out of his driveway, slow down as much as possible until he’s out, then go. It’s a mild climb to the corner, then a half block jog, then a 7% climb on rough concrete for a block. A quarter mile in and the physical part of the commute is one third complete. Snap up the pace a bit. It’s a cool morning, pedal for warmth. Meet the first cyclist of the day, he’s heading toward downtown.
After a mile a stop light stops progress. The OPEN sign is lit up on the Subway store, so it is after 7:00. Cross busy Foster, eye the drivers to make sure they really do stop for the red light. At Powell it’s wait for the traffic light time again. Then the 52nd street buzz through the dip and up to Woodward and Franklin High School. In the next mile a handful of bike commuters pass by, all going west toward downtown. There are couples walking their dogs.
The jog across Division has only green lights and a short wait for oncoming traffic to clear, then the ride climbs rise two of the morning. Surprise there are a couple of cyclists on this leg too. No surprise, more people walking dogs. A green light for the turn eastbound on Washington and the lumber company sign says 7:09, 15C, 59F. It’s been a few months since it’s been visible in the morning.
At Stark there’s lots of traffic so the foot goes down at the stop sign. Late in the group a humongous Ford pickup slows to treat the cyclist as a pedestrian. He’s waved on, no reason for the truck to stop. A few seconds later the way is clear and pedaling resumes.
Burnside, the first painted bike lane of the route. Two blocks and then the final climb of the morning a block of 6 or 7% grade followed by easier grades that gradually flatten out. Drop down to Burnside level and motor along. Cross the bridge and, today, don’t gloat from moving faster than the morning commute traffic held up by some incident. Just as the Max line curves in from the left the train signals start flashing. Hear the squeal of the light rail wheels on the tracks. Sprint to go through the intersection with the train, blocking cross traffic. Keep up the pace to reach 102nd with the train blocking cross traffic and three lights are navigated on the green.
A voice calls “good morning” and one cyclist passes another. The next light is red and three cyclists wait together. It’s a once every six month event, to have three gathered at a light. Cross 122nd and get in the right turn lane to wait for the north/south light to go green. Pass by the car dealerships, Multonomah County Sherrif’s Office and an espresso stand. Lights are green today so no stopping, a right onto Halsey for the zoomy part of the ride. There’s a small climb, maybe 3% or 4%, maybe three blocks long. The cyclist climbs it at a pace faster than taken on the flat, or even mildly descending, sections of the route. A telephone pole marks the top and a relaxation and coasting down the hill to 148th.
Now more inspired speed. Left at 162nd and a bit of a diversion from normal, persist to the I84 bike path. Tolerate the noise for a mile and drop down to 181st. Wait at light. Wait at light. Make sure the freeway exiting traffic is really stopping. Swallow the distaste and ride the sidewalk against the traffic down to the driveway into the workplace. There’s a line of a dozen cars waiting for their left turn signal but the cyclist is first and buzzes into the driveway, digging an ID out of a pocket to show the guard.
At the bike lockers give a Monday morning greeting to a coworker and park the bike.
An uneventful commute. Except it is the 40th consecutive one. That’s more commute days than the entire winter saw, or so it seems. How long does it take to build a habit? I’m not sure yet. I’m going to keep riding to not take a chance on it.
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