Last night’s trip around North Atlanta was one of the most frustrating and nerve-wracking that I have experienced in a long time; it made me yearn for the country roads of Rutledge.
I started out by getting stuck waiting for the the first four traffic lights I encountered. At two of the lights the only reason I didn’t make the green was because the cars ahead of me were not paying attention and didn’t move when they should have.
Things got not better from there as I was ambushed by traffic from every possible direction. In addition to the numerous fat, expensive SUVs that litter this part of the city I had to deal with:
- Construction which closed the intersection of Mount Vernon Highway at Sandy Springs Circle, which is part of my route. Of course this made traffic on the surrounding roads worse as people didn’t know where they were driving.
- CO2 canisters which must have been jettisoned from a truck and were strewn about on the side of the road on two sections of my ride. Luckily these were painted green so they were easy to see.
- A driver who sped around me (crossing double yellow lines) only to have to stop at the newly installed stop sign on Mount Paran Road, which of course meant that I had to also come to a complete stop at this useless three-way-stop intersection.
- Shortly after that another driver tailgating me as we both made our way to the next three-way-stop intersection.
- Construction trucks parked on the shoulder (a de facto bike lane on this section of the route), causing me to have to take the entire lane of a busy, two lane road.
- A car pulled into the bike lane as it was trying to get out of a parking lot.
- A dog barking and running toward me as I started my final, steepest ascent. This turned out to be a bit of a red herring however because the owners were in the front yard too and quickly called the dog off; though my heart still beat a little faster because of the situation.
- And the worst of all, some shithead who came to a complete stop in the middle of the road with no stop sign, in the middle of a long, sloping downhill! I had to pump the brakes and, because there were no oncoming cars, pull around them as I came to a stop; as I did this they started driving again! What the fuck?!?! I nearly lost my shit. In disgust I waived the driver on and coasted down the remainder of the downhill in an effort to rid myself of this ass. There was no reason that this driver should have not known that I was following him/her, because he/she passed me at the top of the downhill.
I felt aggravated, but fortunate to end my 25 miles in one piece and without damage.
By the time I arrived home and unloaded the M6 it was nearly 8:45pm. I had time enough to shower, prepare a quick dinner of frozen biscuits with summer sausage and cheese, and talk to my mother on the phone, before falling asleep.
No Riding Today
Even if I didn’t have the valid excuse of having German class tonight, for which I am still unprepared, I would be taking the day off from riding in an effort to give my legs and nether regions a day of recovery after four days of riding.
Of course I won’t have this luxury whilst riding in Germany in June, or Iowa in July, or Vermont in August, so I better learn to put in some tough, long stretches of multi-day riding before then.
Lately I’ve been entering every travel contest that comes across my inbox. I know, I’ll probably never win, but normally the only thing that results from these entries is the inclusion on other websites email lists.
Yesterday I should have read the terms and conditions, or checked all the boxes on the page, because I accidentally signed up for a subscription to Town & Country magazine. Of course, once I realized this I looked up how to cancel this subscription, they have no credit card of mine to bill, but it’s an addition hassle that I should have identified prior to clicking the submit button.
Enterer beware! (or Boarders cave! in Latin per Google Translate)
Of course if I happen to actually win one of these travel contests you’ll read, and perhaps see, how it all unfolds in this space.