Urbana-Champaign Bicycle Commute

Today was mildly slimy. Packed trainer into bike with backpack and bags of clothes because I'm going to the indoor training ride after work. That many changes of clothes ends up taking lots of space.

It's drizzling - just a tad heavier than a mist, so it's enough that I wished I worn the techamphibian shoes (for professional waterfall climbers, especially when I slipped all over the pedal getting into the toe clips. Still, with the layers under the rain suit, I'm perfectly comfortable and cruising happily.
Yes, I'm going to be a little late; no, I'm not going to hurry in the slime.

I reflect that being unique has its advantages as I reckon that bus driver and I didn't go through the reverse chicken routine ("you gonna go?" "I dunno, you gonna go?") because s/he knew that the lady on the skateboard bike didn't blow through four-way stops.

Green Street's quiet. Cop with lights between Wright and Sixth. Small prayer that it's something trivial. I make it through both lights on one green.


Green or Clark? Green or Clark? Not sure one is faster...
I will follow that van, that very interesting van with two bikes on the front and strange anomalies in the paint job and who knows what on the roof. Ah, he is turning, so I shall turn.
I've bonded with this van. Clark, it shall be. And I shall never see him again, as he gently accelerates forward... another unrequited bond...


Red light at Springfield and he's in the left lane, I'm in the right. I get to check out the bicycles in the front, which are much like the van. INteresting colors and definitely not new.
Green light. The venerable object accelerates even more gently through the intersection than I do. It's several hundred yards later when I glance over, and he's easing by me. What will our interaction be? Silly? Ambiguous (always, but how much)? Warm? Too warm? Cool?


He lifts his hand from the steering wheel and makes a slow, almost solemn gesture: a peace sign.


My heart sings "Amen." My smile covers the whole lane. Can he know that yes, I'm riding because I can't stomach buying gasoline without extreme provocation, because I really believe it contributes to the greed and carnage we are so thoroughly insulated from? Oh, probably not, but MAYBE. Maybe my drizzly self has brought him some joy, too. If I weren't the klutz that I am, I would have returned a gesture, but I'm a both-hands-on-the-bars rider.

and yes, I know, this is kinda like a 13-year-old with a crush on the lifeguard, reading all kinds of things into the tiniest gesture, but one lives in hope :-)

Oh, let's bring it back. Let's unite for peace. Let's communicate our unity, admit to a tiny bit of hope. I am going to practice. Even toting trainer and backpack, I should be able to make the secret sign. Let's make it not so secret.