Dangerous thoughts on a Boulder trail

bike-197229The tall, slender man rolled fast toward me
on his bicycle, talking to the purple-haired
woman riding next to him, looking at his phone,
unaware of his likely imminent demise.

I had the body mass index advantage, I said
later. I had a helmet. I was going downhill
as he was going up. He was shirtless and the
road rash would be ugly if he even survived.

My bicycle was new, nearly scratch-free. I had
things to do, a looming deadline, bills to pay.
I shouted, too politely, and spared his life,
as I had with the oblivious guy the other day.

The next time he may not hear me and we’ll collide
but I swear in advance that I tried to avoid him
even though I was tempted to teach him a lesson.
I really don’t have time to waste in prison.

 

Boulder Sheriff, welcome to civil disobedience

You will have to forgive me for nearly laughing out loud (I mean, LOL) when I read of Boulder County Sheriff Joe Pelle’s concern regarding a protest tonight that involved blocking traffic on U.S. Highway 36.

The story says Pelle thinks it’s a “no win” situation for police because either the public will be upset if law enforcers do nothing or the protesters and their supporters will be upset if someone uses tear gas or force or something and “we will be scrutinized.”

Isn’t scrutiny of law enforcement precisely the point, FCOL?

Sheriff Pelle seems to not have been paying attention. More from the article:

“The thing is, I’m not sure, exactly, what they are trying to accomplish,” Pelle said.

Now I understand. Our sheriff hasn’t a clue. He needs to get one.

Welcome to Civil Disobedience 101, Sheriff Pelle. Pay attention now, as upsetting as it may be…

via U.S. 36 shut down as protesters march down 28th toward Baseline – Boulder Daily Camera.

Elk shooter’s character more important than residence

Would Sheriff Andy Taylor have shot and killed an elk like Boulder’s Big Boy right there in his own town of Mayberry?

Of course not. The fictional sheriff wouldn’t have gunned down the critter in Mayberry—or in Raleigh or Durham or any other city or town, in season or out, let alone lie about it.

It’s not a matter of residence, as a politician and a Denver Post writer would have it as laid out in this Sunday opinion piece.

It’s a matter of character, plain and simple.

There may be good arguments for requiring some workers to live in the city that employs them, and as the column points out the issue has been legislated and litigated.

It’s more important to have police officers who can be trusted to obey the laws they are supposed to enforce.

Jeremy Meyer’s column simply confuses two important issues.

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More fuzzy thinking on Boulder County roads

There he goes again.

Boulder County Transportation Director George Gerstle is quoted in the Daily Camera as saying a canyon road will be closed to cyclists for several weeks, but open to motor vehicles.

Why is it closed to people who travel by bicycle?

View of Ward from below along Lefthand Canyon Road
View of Ward from below along Lefthand Canyon Road (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

His explanation:

“It’s not wide enough for big trucks and bikes at the same time.”

Apparently it is wide enough for big trucks and automobiles, though.

As I said before, we are all traffic. Either allow traffic on the road, or don’t.

Pedal on.

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Act quickly against post-flood mold

“Mold is like a substance from hell.”

via Boulder County advises quick strike against possible post-flood mold – Boulder Daily Camera.

Learning the contours of Boulder County by bicycle

On the occasion of my first bicycle commute home in 2013, I was reminded of a quote that I used for a time on my first blog:

It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best…

If you spend enough time on a bicycle, sweating up the hills as Hemingway described, you do get a more exquisitely vivid picture than you do behind the wheel of a car or while half asleep in the back of a bus. An “accurate remembrance” of the countryside comes only with experiencing it up close, under your own power with the wind whistling by your ears and your heart pounding to tell you it is still there and working.

Driving a car, only the highest of hills impress you. After cycling, when you do see a hill through the windshield of a car you think what it would be like to pedal it and how good it would be to fly down the other side.

You get to where you would rather be on two wheels than four, and you look over your shoulder every few seconds whether you’re riding down the road, walking to the bus stop, or stuck in your car in traffic on The Diagonal on one of those rare days when you actually have to start the 4-liter monster under the hood of that ’91 Renegade.

From Table Mesa in Boulder to the Smith home in Longmont is 22 miles if you take Valmont all the way to 95th Street and then head north. The mountains are just a quick glance over your shoulder, back toward the setting sun.

There are contours no matter which route you take.

Pedal on.

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