The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: Ramming Speed!

So yesterday I'm riding through Manhattan, heading east across Bowery:

As I'm going through the intersection, a cop blips his siren, comes at me at me at full ramming speed and slams on his brakes with about an inch to spare.  (He might have actually hit me if I hadn't sort of twisted my body to avoid the bumper in an impressive display of on-the-bike yoga.)

Then he flipped me off (you can't see it in the video but I can assure you it happened), peeled out, and left me wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Only afterwards did I remember I was riding with the Fly6, and through the magic of seatpost-mounted technology here it is on video:



The best I can come up with was that the light had just turned yellow as I entered the intersection so maybe he was trying to teach me some kind of lesson, though even if I'd actually run a red light (which I hadn't), nearly ramming me and then speeding off seems just a tiny bit excessive.  Or, maybe he was in "hot pursuit" of a "suspect" and I just happened to get in the way.  He did turn on his siren shortly after peeling out again, though he only left it on for a few seconds, and from what I can tell he was only using it to run the red light up ahead at Chrystie Street.  (We've all seen how they do that.)

Isn't it funny how a cop can threaten your life and then say "fuck you," yet you still search for ways to blame yourself?

Anyway, so there you go.  Already, the Fly6 has proved its worth, if only for entertainment purposes.

By the way, apart from the cop, I had exactly zero (0) frustrating interactions with operators of motor vehicles, which is pretty astounding and nearly unheard of on a round-trip commute spanning three (3) boroughs.  I did, however, have to deal with these things:

I thought they were being blown out of the bike lane by a mighty crosswind, but it turned out they were just avoiding an obstacle:

As for me, I rode right through it:

Though only after first purchasing a dedicated gravel bike at Paragon right down the street, which I returned immediately after conquering the treacherous sector.

For the rest of the ride, I was riding Son of Scat:

Which rode wonderfully, as all Frankenbikes seem to do, and which I outfitted with Knog's finest lumens:

None of which I used, because I got home well before dark thanks to this whole "daylight savings" thing.

Incidentally, speaking of Frankenbikes, does yours have a solid-axle hub converted to a quick release and then converted back to a bolt-on with a hex key wheel skewer?  Because mine does:

I'm rolling on a 360-degree kludge, and that's how I like it.

And on the subject of frontal lights with large amounts of lumens, a number of commenters yesterday pointed out that they're rude, blinding, arrogant, and so forth.  This is a good point, and I certainly wouldn't even think of using that big one anyplace where there was significant bike traffic.  I would, however, use it someplace with no traffic and no streetlights, though I'd still angle it down, so as not to inadvertently sear any retinas, and to reveal obstacles such as this:

I do stand by using a front blinky of reasonable lumens in an urban setting though, both as a driver and a cyclist.  96% of drivers can barely parallel park, and your blinky could be the only thing keeping one of them from running you over in reverse because "they didn't see you."  As it is, they have a hard enough time not driving onto subway trains:

(Via Streetsblog.)

The southbound Q train had just left the Church Avenue station about 5 a.m. when the woman plowed through a fence near Albemarle Road and East 16th Street, creating a kind of ramp that allowed her to settle her front tires atop the train, according to an NYPD spokesman and a witness.

The woman who was behind the wheel walked away from the incident and still hasn't been found, the police spokesman said.

I'm sure it wasn't her fault.  Could happen to anybody.  She was probably blinded by a cyclist with too many lumens.

Either that, or she was possessed by the spirit of John Frankenheimer.