Silent But Deadly

Today was the first warm day since the April 3rd snowfall that measured 8-12 inches on our driveway. Pugsley had not yet made it around Lake Minnetonka due to his age. He was maybe 6 months old. Just a baby, albeit with really big tires. It was a beautiful day. He was anxious to go. Carefully I add extra air to his chubby front and rear tires. Mr. Cateye Stealth 10 leapt onto its mount to record the event. Pugsley waited patiently outside the garage sunning himself while I overdressed for the occasion. The teeny tiny Polar 12 oz. baby bottle snuggled into Pugsley’s Arundel cage, and off we went to go around the lake.
Pugsley wanted to take the limestone trail west to Excelsior. As his guardian I insisted we stay on the road for a bit and he could jump onto the trail after I warmed up my legs. Grudgingly He agreed. Once on the trail Pugsley went from puddle to puddle splashing any and all. We were rolling thru muddy bits and any snow that still showed the whites of its eyes. We both were having great fun rolling down the trail. We got to Water Street and turned towards Patisserie Margo. Pugsley suggested we stop so he could drip off in the sun and I could have an espresso.
We jumped back onto the trail and headed out-of-town and then turned right when Pugsley saw the road ahead. He wanted to stretch his chubby legs a bit. We were moving along at a decent pace allowing for our considerable mass and girth when we felt the presence of another pair of tires semi silently closing on us. Later, Pugsley chastized me for not having a rear viewing mirror.
Human anatomy makes it hard to see behind oneself. We have to force ourselves to disconnect the hands and arms from the neck when attempting to look behind. Most of us have learned this disconnect driving automobiles. It helps avoid embarrassing lane changes and car crashes, plus hefty insurance rate increases.
On a bicycle at speed, a little shoulder action or the slip of a hip can cause you to change your line instantly. I learned early on in my bicycle riding career that courtesy and communication will keep you upright on two wheels. I always announce my position and intentions to other riders. If two of us are riding together in a pace line and we come up upon another rider or riders.Whom ever is leading our group would yell to the rider s being overtaken: “two passing on your left”
So when Pugsley and I sensed another rider approaching sans warning, we held our course so as not to engage. What we did not realize due to this mute approach was that the danger was ten fold. There was a pace line of 10 people passing us. Being that this was a very early season ride, I refrained from screaming my admonishment ” ON YOUR RIGHT ” to the leader of the pace line for not saying “on your left”. To our dismay this happened two more times after brief gaps as they passed us. These riders were very jovial. They praised Pugsley for his footwear and smiled at me. After a few moments a lone rider approached and I barely heard “on your left “. As the gentleman passed Pugsley recognized his Giant Defy and I recognized the rider and hailed him. The four of us rode together untill we happened upon the other three groups that had paused at a gas station to wait for us. I calmly implored them to be verbal with other riders to protect everyone.
Pugsley and I did not wait for their reply. We turned right once again to get around the lake. Our cadence was found and zone three was achieved and then maintained. After a bit we hopped onto the trail and headed into Wayzata. Homage was paid to the stop signs and we respectfully crossed the railroad tracks, and onto the main drag we rolled. A second espresso was considered but Pugsley felt very dirty and a bit embarrassed to be in Wayzata with all of the crushed limestone muck on his person and my Lake boots looking so sad. Pugsley wanted to head home immediately, so we pressed ( spun ) forth.
Just passed the marina we watched a guy with tri-bars neglected to stop for the red light. I guess he thought he was racing, or maybe color blind. When the signal presented us with the appropriate hue we continued with our ride. Just before the climb after Cargil, once again we were overtaken by a mute rider. As he passed us I could no longer hold back and bellowed ” ON YOUR RIGHT “. Deaf and dumb. We arrived back home just as She Who Must Be Obey returned from her dog walk. She photographed my shoes and decreed ” They are not coming in the house like that ” I assured her that I would clean them, Pugsley and that my clothes would not enter the house on my person. Mr. Cateye indicated that we went 24 miles. It was great.