Prior to this past Friday, I have been on a bicycle one time in the past 17 years. Somehow, my wife, Elana, and I thought that the most intelligent way to experience San Francisco was to take a bicycle-built-for-two across the Golden Gate Bridge into Sausalito, and then to take a ferry back to San Fran. What we did not know was that this trip included driving on heavily trafficked roads and not just the pretty park path that you take to the bridge. What we did know is that Elana had ridden a bike once(!) in her life and the experience went as follows: Elana’s father was trying to teach her how to ride a bike and on her first attempt she fell (like most first timers); Elana’s father raised his voice at her for some reason; Elana got upset and stormed off promising that she would never ride a bicycle again. She didn’t (at least until SF). In short, it is amazing that we survived, San Francisco is beautiful and the best way to tour the city is on a cable car, not a bicycle. But, I digress.
So, I went out for a ride with (forgiving) friends on Friday morning for about an hour and it went pretty well, so I was all geared up for this morning’s training ride – my first with the group, my first with coaches and my first with clip-in bicycle cleats. Cleats(?) some of you may ask, as I did. Yes, cleats. There is a cleat at the bottom of a special bicycle sneaker that attaches to special pedals, which are designed to accept cleats. The advantage of a cleat (to over simplify) is that your foot is always in the proper location to transfer power to the pedal and, because you are attached, you also get power from the backswing of your pedal, as you pull upwards. All of this means a faster and more efficient bike ride. The significant downside is that if you don’t unclip before you come to a stop, your foot can still be attached to the pedal, and instead of gently leaning on your foot as you come to a stop you will find yourself gently crashing down on your shoulder, hip and thigh as you come to a more painful and abrupt stop.
This morning I made a new friend by de-cleating too slowly, just in time to avoid crashing to the ground by putting my foot down, sticking out my hand and placing it my new not-friend’s shoulder (purely instinctively, I had no idea what was going on) and nearly sent him flying. Thankfully, he was not clipped in and was able to regain his balance. I was told, nicely, but sternly, by my coaches that I needed to VERY careful when clipped in and I must think ahead, or I could really hurt myself or someone else.
A few minutes later, our coaches told the group, in no uncertain terms, that we should ALWAYS pass on the left and, before passing a rider, we need to shout out “Left!” or “Passing Left!” This is common courtesy, so as not to surprise a rider who can’t see you, and also an anti-crash precaution, in case the rider in front was going to move out to the left as you were passing (CRASH!). I was very good about moving to the left and yelling out “Left!” when I passed a rider. Apparently, my presumption that moving to the left was an appropriate evasive action when a large, Westchester County Bus rode up behind you was 100% wrong. This time, one of the coaches yelled at me the way I have yelled at one of my children when they nearly ran into the middle of a street. “Even if you were right to move to the left, but you were killed, you would still be dead! You would be right! But, you would be dead!” I had been scolded (and deservedly so) for the second time in the day by someone I had just met and it was barely 9:30am.
However, I think the strangest moment of the day came as I drove home in my car. After merging onto the Hutchinson River Parkway, I gained speed and soon signaled into the left lane. As I moved onto the back hip of the car in the right lane and accelerated to pass, I actually found myself saying, out loud, “Left!” Maybe there is some hope for me after all.
