11th May

I've been exploring where I can safely go on the bike from my new digs.  Sure, I could get back to my old bike route, but now I can get to other parts of the county too.  It's a cool city and I love how quickly I can go from downtown to a rural paradise.
The only problem with urban and suburban riding is the increased number of cars I have to deal with to get to these rural paradises. (paradises? just go with it).  The problem is not only do people somehow not see me despite lights and a beautiful high-vis vest, but they continually underestimate how wide a bike is, and how I just might not want to ride through the puddles or over the grates and tons of gravel on the sides of the street.  The new law in my state is that bikes must be given three feet of space when being passed.  So, basically I need to tape a yard stick to my handlebars to illustrate just how wide three feet is.
More importantly for my immediate safety is that I need to remember that in this heavenly time of year, people just might have their windows down.  I talk to myself a lot when I'm riding, most often exasperated cursing as I turn a corner to find yet another hill.  But I also talk to the cars on the street as if I were still in one.  I'm sure people have heard me ranting about their driving as they race past, or my general yelling of "It's okay, I'm not here!" and, "I'm not wearing this vest for my health.  Oh wait, I AM!"
Today I went down a road I didn't intend to where the shoulder is narrow and the speed limit a bit above my comfort level.  At least twice I was just yelling "AHHHH!" as cars hastily passed me without checking for oncoming traffic. Although, it was strangely exhilarating not only to shout like a crazy person while flying down a hill, but glancing back and seeing an impatient driver and their car in my back pocket.  "AHHHH! Don't do it!!!"
Come to think of it, finding exhilaration has been on my resolution list.