I recognized the move because I’ve made it myself: You rear (pronounced more like “rare” in some regional dialects) back on your heels, throw your hands in the air, and give the offending person The Look. It’s the look that means “You just broke the law or did something irresponsible that made me feel threatened by you and your vehicle.” Most often employed by people walking somewhere dominated by other people inside vehicles not noticing the people outside the vehicles, it’s an appropriately righteous look in my book.
It felt different from my spot in the saddle, rolling through an intersection.
The scene: I’m riding south on Columbia Street in downtown Olympia, in the block where the Olympia Center stands. I know this building well; I take a fair number of classes there and often ride this street, which also provides the quieter option for getting through downtown to the capitol campus. At the crosswalk from the east side of the street—the far lane from where I’m rolling along—a white-haired older woman has just stepped into the street. (I’m sharing her age because I observe people, not because I had any particular feelings about her age other than knowing that as we age we become a bit more breakable and we’re also less prone to make unpredictable moves in the street the way a child might.)
A driver headed north has courteously (and as legally required) stopped in the lane to give her the right of way that is hers. This happens to be a marked crosswalk, although under Washington state law all intersections are legal crosswalks (with a few exceptions). We’re a “stop” state, not a “yield” state, meaning that drivers must not only yield to pedestrians, they must stop for them. I appreciate both these aspects of state law.
I gauge all of this as I roll toward the intersection, and I keep rolling. She’s a few feet into the far lane, I’m at the right side of my lane, and there’s plenty of real estate between us. My approach speed is such that I’ll clear the intersection well before she reaches my lane. We’re negotiating in a shared space and it will all work just fine.
I absolutely would stop if she were closer to my lane or if I were driving. On my bicycle I’m not carrying the mass or speed that represent the likelihood of a severe or fatal impact. I’m one of the soft-shelled creatures like her, not a hard-shelled creature. I’m also very space-efficient, so plenty of lane width remained available to her to keep moving across while I moved ahead. I’ve often been in this exact same scenario with people who slowed their walking pace to wave me on and I’ve smiled and commented that we can both keep moving and it all works out. I also often say, “You have the right of way!” when I stop for them because I’m close.
I analyzed all this in a flash, as one does, and kept rolling. She reared back, threw her arms out, and yelled, “I have the right of way!”.
I immediately felt bad. We’re in this together! I’m on your side! I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you! I know you have the right of way, ma’am!
At the next intersection I sat at a red light for a while, wishing I’d stopped to talk with her. As the light turned green I circled back onto the sidewalk (appreciating the flexibility of being on a bike) and rode back toward the intersection, thinking I’d find her to apologize and to explain my reasoning (not that an explanation makes anything okay for the other person, more to let her know that I had seen her).
I couldn’t find her. She’d been wearing all black clothing and no one in sight was dressed that way. She’d apparently disappeared into a vehicle in the lot across the street, one of the nearby buildings, or maybe the boardwalk along the waterfront.
I dropped back into the street, sat again at that same red light, and went on my way, wishing we could have talked. I’d rather be a human she’s interacted with than an anonymous “cyclist” she likely told people about for the rest of the day.
Next time I’ll slow down and let whoever’s crossing wave me on. This woman might well have done that if she’d seen me clearly acknowledging her presence. The opportunity to have human interactions is one of the major advantages of moving around without a soundproofed steel box and tinted windows cutting you off from those exchanges. I didn’t take full advantage of the advantage in this scenario. Wish I had.
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