Daily Commute

Ben and I ride our bikes to and from the university every day. Thankfully, it has been a beautiful couple of weeks, sunny most days and rarely even drizzly. Perhaps more remarkable than the weather, however, is how often Ben and I run into one another on the way home from school. We ride the same route, so that helps, but we in no way coordinate our ride home. The ride takes about 20 min, so our schedules have to be aligned more closely than that for our ride to overlap, let alone be on the same part at the same time.

The first time Ben and I intersected was one of my first days in Seattle. Robert and I were house hunting and I had ridden to the U to meet with a professor. I pulled up to a stop light and was focused on traffic and such when a bike puled up fast and close beside me. Who was this jerk? Do people really pack in this closely on a traffic island? I didn't look at the rider though until just before the light changed and I stole a sidelong glance - BEN?! He hadn't noticed me either (he apparently just has no concept of personal space on a bike). We sat at the light for at least 2 minutes before noticing we knew each other - it was in fact the first I had seen of him since getting to Seattle. Amusing.

More amusing, though, is how often the story has repeated itself. Last night, however, was better than most...

I had an IM volleyball game with some people from my lab (we won) and I was riding home. I usually ride with earphones in, catching up on NPR news or the latest RadioLab podcast or such, so I am careful with my surroundings - knowing that I don't hear so good. I look for cars and signal and do all the things a good little biker does, while risking her life riding deaf through traffic. As I leave campus there is this one construction wall that I pass where the light bounces funny and always gives me a double shadow. I know by now that I am but one rider when I pass this spot, though my image on the pavement is two. I feel silly checking behind me, only to realize that no one is there, so I have trained myself not to look. This entrainment apparently has bled over into the rest of my ride. I am one rider, no need to look behind me...One hill partway through the ride, though, I was struck with the feeling of being followed and looked back - BEN?! He was inches from my back tire and had been stealthily following me for at least a mile. He was grinning from ear to ear as he relayed all his covert-op tactics: no front light, soft shifting, no hard bumps, riding in my blindspot. GAH! I can't believe he tricked me for so long.

Why do we keep hitting the road at the same time? Inquiring minds would like to know. 

Where the hell did he come from??