A while ago, I had my bike crammed into the back of my car. A strange thought occurred to me: not only do my bike and car have approximately the same value, but if my car was stolen, I’d only be pissed about losing the bike.
Anyway, I finally had a chance to get my bike out for a ride today. I was following the bike path signs sprinkled liberally throughout the city streets here in Madison. Now, maybe it’s because I’ve spent the vast majority of my life living in rural or almost rural areas, but when I hear the term “bicycle path,” I naturally assume that it will indeed be a “path” reserved for the use of “bicycles.”
That assumption would be wrong.
I kept following the arrows on the signs, hoping that the next turn would lead me to a quiet little path devoid of loud traffic, bone-jarring sidewalk ramps and potholes, but found only a circuitous route that seemed to have been planned by a guy with a map, a marker, and a heavy dose of NyQuil.
“Lessee… um… yeah… we’ll just have ’em going through here, and here, and here…”
:: squeaking marker ::
“Holy shit! Tim, c’mere and check thish out! I made the bike paths look like a cat!”
:: footsteps ::
“Uh huh… first off, that’s not a cat. That’s not even a drawing. It’s a mass of scribbles. Second, I fired you three days ago. If you show up here again, I’m calling the cops.”
Anyway, the only thing that makes these “bike paths” are the signs. The routes make absolutely no sense, and seem to be completely random in nature. They run through high traffic areas, residential, business, and parks. There is no bike lane, nor any other feature that would define them as anything other than ordinary city streets.
I think I’m going to have to buy a map of the bike routes around here. I refuse to believe that there aren’t any honest-to-god paths anywhere in Madison. I’ve done a bit of searching online for them, and I can’t find them anywhere. There’s a gorgeous view of Madison’s skyline along John Nolan Drive that I’ve been meaning to take pictures of. I know there’s a bike path running right along side it, but for some bizarre reason, simply pointing my bike in that general direction and taking off it search of it seems unacceptable. Don’t ask me why. I don’t understand it either.
As an addendum, I’ve decided to pull “Stupid Roommate Trick of the Day.” If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d be very hurt and angry if Jason was writing similar things about me. He deserves the same level of respect. While I do spend a good amount of time bitching about him, he’s not a bad guy.
You’ve heard the phrase “No news is good news?” Well, the opposite is just as true. Good news isn’t news either. The only time I mention him is when he’s done something to piss me off. A while ago, my backpack was stolen with my phone, keys, and wallet inside it. I didn’t mention that he drove me to the bars and paid for my drinks all night because I had no ID and no way to pay. Or that he picked me up from work a few months ago when I had a bad reaction to some codeine and didn’t want to drive myself home.
As much as I may bitch about him, Jason is a good guy. I’ve just learned that living with him doesn’t work.