12 thoughts on “Really, Who Does This?

  1. Just a thought; maybe you should plan your routes a little better in the future. Adventure is great and all but you ARE going to get hurt, possibly badly, at some point if you keep taking unnecessary risks like this, and there goes your Adventure. Ask for advice and help from other cyclists who know the ways you’re planning to go. One of the biggest parts of adventuring is meeting new people, right? So do it and be safe.

    • :)

      It was a really good feeling. Crossing that bridge couldn’t possibly have been so much fun if it hadn’t been for all the hardship leading up to it. It became sort of a big joke with Fate and the universe, and I was in on it.

  2. dirtypatchouli says:

    Drew, I’m enjoying reading about and watching your adventures, but I gotta side with Jen on this. As a fellow cyclist, I think I would have opted for that extra 30 miles, rather than tempt fate on that walkway. That freaked me out just watching the video. There are plenty of biking websites and online clubs that might be able to offer suggestions for situations like that.

    Carry on, but be safe!

    • I’ve been struggling with how to answer Jen’s comment, because she presumes that I failed to do any advance planning. In reality, I first viewed satellite photos of the bridge (which appeared to have a shoulder—I was probably seeing the walkway) and then confirmed with two different locals (both said there is a wide shoulder the whole way, wrongly).

      More to the point, I have to ask: what part about a walkway with a metal guardrail against falling on one side, and a concrete barrier against traffic on the other side, seems so dangerous to you that you would instead bicycle 30 extra miles on unfamiliar roads in the dark starting at rush hour? Is it possible that your own sense of risk evaluation might be skewed?

      I always try to put risk evaluation at the front of my decisions on the road. I understand there’s real cause for friends to worry about my safety. And I try to remember that such worry, although sometimes unrealistic from my perspective, is motivated by caring about me—and that means a great deal.

      Yet we should probably all assume that the level of risk and danger I’ll face will only escalate from here out. Crossing a bridge on a narrow but protected pedestrian walk is likely to be one of the least alarming situations you’ll read of here.

      • dirtypatchouli says:

        Hey, each of us has to gauge the risks we take. It appeared that since you were on your bike, you were above the guard rail that protects someone from falling off that walkway. Personally, that would have freaked me out enough to justify the 2 to 3 hours to go the additional 30 miles not to take that chance.

        And I didn’t mean to imply (although, now reading my comment, it did seem like I did) that you didn’t do any research. Nobody bikes across the country without doing some homework.

        Anyway, glad you make it across. And hey, watch out for those farm dogs! They are one of my worst nightmares on rides out in the countryside…

        • Oh gods I know! Although I had a tiny lap dog come charging out of a farm running after me one day, and I actually slowed down a little to encourage the little guy :)

          One thing I’ve discovered is that dogs seem to not realize bicyclists are human beings. I find that if I stop pedaling, sit completely erect in the seat and make eye contact with them, it radically changes their attitude. I’ve had even very big dogs suddenly stop running when I do this. It’s like I did a magic trick – shapeshifted from Elk to Human.

          No worries about the earlier comment. And I can see why it would look like the guard rail was useless. It was not nearly as high as I would have liked but not so low that I felt I could hurdle right over. Not easily, anyway :)

  3. Pingback: Why are you scared for me? |   Rogue Priest

  4. Pingback: The Missing 10 Miles |   Rogue Priest

Please share your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s