This morning I rode Clara along a mostly empty path. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday. It certainly wasn’t because of bad weather or obstacles on the path. In fact, I didn’t see a single person from Parkdale until I got to the War Museum, and then it was only a solitary pedestrian. What happened to all those spandex guys?

It didn’t mean I didn’t have some excitement though. As I pedalled through Tunney’s Pasture a guy in a white pickup truck scared the shit out of me. I had crossed at Ross and was heading north to the back of the Pasture, where I turn right and head to Parkdale to get onto the path.  As I approached Sorrel Driveway, which is really part of the parking lot on my right, I noticed a white pickup truck driving pretty fast. I checked my sideview mirror and a car was coming up behind me. I had my flashing headlight on, reflective straps on my ankles and lots of strips on my bike. I was pretty sure I was visible.

He comes to a rolling stop about six inches from me. I could see his face. So I gave him the WTF expression. Bad memories of being hit eight years ago flooded through me. I waited for the hyperventilating to kick in. Thankfully, time does heal all wounds and I was able to keep going. And my anger fueled me to the path. What a jerk! I don’t even think he ever came to a full stop.

From there, I was hoping to see the older lady with the leather bomber jacket. I haven’t seen her in a few days. But nope, there was nobody. Usually when I merge onto the river pathway, I have to speed up or slow down to avoid another cyclist. But nobody until I saw the pedestrian by the War Museum.

I wonder what the ride home will be like? Dry, I hope.

 

 

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