All We Can Hope For

*Originally published on 09.11.2019

Words can make or break a day.  Let's start with this lovely late summer morning here.  Around 9:00 am I decided to go for a short bicycle ride.  I wanted to follow a route I take most mornings but most mornings I ride closer to 6:00 am than 9:00 am.  The route takes me to and through a local county park and gives me a chance to ride without having to worry about getting hit by a vehicle.  I generally ride along an asphalt path that runs  around the perimeter of the park and includes space for cyclists, joggers, dog walkers, and people simply enjoying the weather. At 6:00 in the morning, there are usually two or three other people in the park, walking, jogging, or walking dogs.  I ride on the right side of the path with my eyes wide open. I make it a point to give a hearty good morning if I am coming up behind pedestrians who might not be aware of my presence.  I  slow down so as not to freak anyone out.  For me, it's not about the speed but about getting out and moving.

At 9:00 this morning there were lots of people in the park and most of them were walking dogs.  In one loop around the park, I probably encountered five or six people with dogs and I followed my own protocol: stick to the right side, slow down as you approach, greet with a smile and a good morning if you think they might not know you are there.  All good, as far as I could tell.  As I was almost finished with my second lap around the park (out of a planned three) , I came upon an older woman stopped on the right side of the path and fiercely holding on to her three large dogs.  I slowed way down, waiting to see if she might be moving over, but when I decided she was waiting for me to pass her, I moved carefully along the left side and continued on my way. I heard her yell sharply after me, "This is NO place to ride a bike!"

Yikes!  What? No place to ride a bike?  Wait.  Isn't this a county park with a paved path? There are no signs indicating that bicyclists are not permitted and, in fact, I often see other bicyclists on the path (including children).  Isn't this a safer place for bicyclists than riding on the street with the cars?  Of course, if bicyclists want to ride fast and/or recklessly, then I agree.  This is not the place to do that.  But riding at the speed and with the care that I was riding?  Why wouldn't this be the place for bicycles?  I decided that if, on the third loop, I encountered this woman again, I would get off my bike well ahead of her and approach her with a friendly smile. I would tell her that I was sorry if I upset her but I wanted her to know that my eyes were wide open while riding.  I was not riding recklessly and I hoped we could share the path.

Wow.  I am a naive soul. On my third push up the biggest hill in the park, I saw the same woman at the crest of the hill so I disembarked as I came near. The woman saw me approaching and, before I could say anything and while my smile was still genuinely hoping to find a receptive face, she  lambasted me. "You have NO business riding a bike in this park.  You almost ran over those two dogs [dogs that were with their person well ahead of her on the path]."  Her tall body was stiff, with shoulders pulled back into fighting position. Her face was red, scrunched, and scary.  At first I was taken aback and I tried to be calm. I started with, "But wait, I was riding slowly.  I saw the two dogs. I moved way over and I came no where near hitting them." And then I made the mistake of adding, "Where do you want me to ride a bike if not on the path in the park?"

She hunched her shoulders up even more and screamed "You should ride on the street. You have bike lanes. That's where you belong. NOT in the park!"  And then she began, with trembling chin to yell about having her dog hit by a bicyclist and her friend also having her dog hit by a cyclist.  She abruptly turned and launched herself back on the path as if to say I will not give you my attention anymore.  I am sad to say that my reaction was instantaneous.  I yelled to her, "I have been a bicyclist hit by a truck and I have been a pedestrian hit by a bicyclist! I ride with care!"  And then I got back on my bike and rode home.

What I told myself as I was riding home was that she was an angry person or maybe she was just having a bad day.  Certainly she was still feeling the pain of having her dog hit by a bicyclist. My head was scrambled because somehow I felt at fault for her rant and her rant spoiled my pleasant bike ride. I was home within ten minutes but it's now two hours later and I am still replaying that scene in my head.

See?  That's what I mean about words making or breaking a day. My pleasant mood was reversed by this chance meeting. Now my smile had transformed into a furrowed brow and my head hurt. This scene could have gone much differently but there were human beings involved.  Human beings are complex.  They are fragile, they are scared, they are impulsive. She was hurting.  She yelled at me and shook me up.  I'm not sure she heard my response but maybe she did?  And maybe she understood why I didn't want to ride on the street? I doubt it because in that moment, she was feeling angry and scared but maybe later that fragment will come back to her.

As for me?  Well, That's all I've been thinking about as I cleaned up the kitchen, started the laundry, and threw the ball for the dog.  I think I am better off not riding that path at 9:00 am. I've ridden it at different times of the day but this was the most crowded I'd ever seen it.  I don't want to freak people out but I also find street riding to be frightening (and yes, I was hit by a truck - broke nine bones - AND was hit by a bicyclist - ER visit with kidney damage). For now, my solution is to, as much as possible, stick to my early morning rides but also to research other paths that might be more about bikes and less about walking dogs.

I'm sorry I upset that woman. I'm waiting for my mind to let this confrontation go (hence the blog post). I don't want to be a person who is angry.  I especially don't want to be a person who is angry at an older woman walking dogs in the park. That doesn't make sense to me. I hope she got over her anger at me.  I hope she ran into a friend and vented about me to that friend. I hope her day got better and she got a little love in there.  That's all we can hope for for each other, right?