The trip timer on my bike computer records the time my wheels are rolling, not total elapsed time (it can actually show both, but for some reason I don't usually look at the latter). This can be deceiving if you aren't clear on which time you're looking at.
Consistently I ride the "fast route" to work (the one by the junkyard) in 20 minutes, the "standard route" in 30-32 minutes -- at least according to the "wheel" timer. I relish those ten minutes saved when I really need them. Monday, however, things didn't quite work out the way I'd planned.
The fast route is significantly shorter than my regular route, but it is more heavily trafficked and crosses major roads at less opportune locations. Consequently, I find myself "idling" at stoplights more. On the way home, I waited in traffic at one light for three full cycles before getting to cross, and at another for two cycles. The result? 27 minutes, instead of 20. And a lot more stress. I would have been better off taking the "long" way home and arriving less frazzled and only a few minutes later.
Not only is the traffic heavier on the "fast" route, but the stress level among the drivers is palpably higher. On the regular route, I see few cars, and those that I do see are generally easy to work with. Yesterday, I was in much heavier traffic, and at least one driver kindly advised me to "get [my] a** on the sidewalk".
Which leads me to my Traffic Theory of the Day (tm). I noticed when the aforementioned advice was handed out that we were in a long line of traffic on a two-lane street, waiting "forever" for a short light onto the main road. It's relatively difficult when driving to vent one's frustration to another driver, even if that driver is at fault. Even if you make a sailor blush yelling at him, he's not likely to hear you, and unless he's looking in his mirror, he's certainly not going to see you either.
Plus, there's always the "solidarity" thing. The other driver is, well, a driver, just like you. There's only so far your anger can go without the instinctual "us vs. them" sense reminding you that the other driver is also an "us".
A cyclist, on the other hand, is different. And, he can hear you. And he's right there next to you. All of these things make it much easier to transfer one's frustration from the long line of cars in front of you (where it probably belongs) onto the cyclist you're passing (where it almost certainly doesn't).
It's also easier to assume when passing a cyclist that the reason for the long line of traffic is because it has backed up behind the "slow moving vehicle". Rarely is this true, unless road conditions are hazardous. Still, it's an easy assumption to make.
I'm often relieved to be at least the second or third "car" stopped at a light. I like to think that the car in front of me somehow makes it clear to the driver behind me that I am not the reason he didn't make it through the light.
This ride's experience was a marked contrast to my typical "main route" experience, where cars are less frequent, drive more relaxed, and rarely if ever accost me. Plus, I get a few more minutes of exercise!!
Consistently I ride the "fast route" to work (the one by the junkyard) in 20 minutes, the "standard route" in 30-32 minutes -- at least according to the "wheel" timer. I relish those ten minutes saved when I really need them. Monday, however, things didn't quite work out the way I'd planned.
The fast route is significantly shorter than my regular route, but it is more heavily trafficked and crosses major roads at less opportune locations. Consequently, I find myself "idling" at stoplights more. On the way home, I waited in traffic at one light for three full cycles before getting to cross, and at another for two cycles. The result? 27 minutes, instead of 20. And a lot more stress. I would have been better off taking the "long" way home and arriving less frazzled and only a few minutes later.
Not only is the traffic heavier on the "fast" route, but the stress level among the drivers is palpably higher. On the regular route, I see few cars, and those that I do see are generally easy to work with. Yesterday, I was in much heavier traffic, and at least one driver kindly advised me to "get [my] a** on the sidewalk".
Which leads me to my Traffic Theory of the Day (tm). I noticed when the aforementioned advice was handed out that we were in a long line of traffic on a two-lane street, waiting "forever" for a short light onto the main road. It's relatively difficult when driving to vent one's frustration to another driver, even if that driver is at fault. Even if you make a sailor blush yelling at him, he's not likely to hear you, and unless he's looking in his mirror, he's certainly not going to see you either.
Plus, there's always the "solidarity" thing. The other driver is, well, a driver, just like you. There's only so far your anger can go without the instinctual "us vs. them" sense reminding you that the other driver is also an "us".
A cyclist, on the other hand, is different. And, he can hear you. And he's right there next to you. All of these things make it much easier to transfer one's frustration from the long line of cars in front of you (where it probably belongs) onto the cyclist you're passing (where it almost certainly doesn't).
It's also easier to assume when passing a cyclist that the reason for the long line of traffic is because it has backed up behind the "slow moving vehicle". Rarely is this true, unless road conditions are hazardous. Still, it's an easy assumption to make.
I'm often relieved to be at least the second or third "car" stopped at a light. I like to think that the car in front of me somehow makes it clear to the driver behind me that I am not the reason he didn't make it through the light.
This ride's experience was a marked contrast to my typical "main route" experience, where cars are less frequent, drive more relaxed, and rarely if ever accost me. Plus, I get a few more minutes of exercise!!
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