South of Sunnyside

Now that the days are getting longer, and the temperature a little warmer, I’ve re-committed to riding the bike regularly, even if it’s just to Starbucks and back. I had forgotten how many odd looks people can so freely give.

I get it. I look ridiculous wearing a bright red helmet, on a bike with large saddle racks on the back (with my laptop bag sticking out the top).

But riding my bike is a conscious choice. I have a car. I have a motorcycle. Neither are as eco- or health-friendly as my bike, and while it may not be “cool,” neither is the stripped-down, 1995 Honda Civic that transports the guy giving me the stink-eye. And to the young-uns that like to point and laugh: I’ll respect your opinion when your old enough to drive. If you choose to walk then, I’ll even laugh with you.

I feel we should talk about what just happened. I almost grazed you, and yes, that was intentional. Sure, I could have moved another six inches to the right; likewise, you could have moved another six feet to your right. You might be bigger, but I’m not going to bow down to your bearded ego.

I’m not quite certain as to the laws of the road when it comes to riding a bike, but my personal preference is to avoid riding down major thoroughfares that don’t have designated cycle lanes, especially when an eight-ten foot sidewalk is available. On said sidewalk, I kindly oblige to protocol, staying to right.

As to why I didn’t turn around once you started yelling; you were behind me (literally). It was cowardly to wait for me to pass you, and I could foresee nothing positive from any sort of dialog. Besides, I was moving at a good speed, and it’s still over 100° outside.

If you were sleepwalking, I retract any sarcasm and offer my apologies. One cannot clearly decipher sidewalk “lanes” when sleepwalking.

Forget streetlights, on nights like tonight—I’ve got moonlight.

Riding back on Fowler Ave. from Starbucks tonight, Nature was smiling on me. Not only could I feel a noticeable drop in the temperature throughout the older part of the neighborhood, but the road was easy to see from the moonlight.

I took a brief detour to savor the ride. Good times.

Okay, I try not shop at Wal-Mart, but that’s for another post.

I enjoy conversations about why I should support local businesses over chains, and vice versa. The current topic around Fresno seems to be Starbucks and the death of several local coffee shops (and other locally-owned businesses) in Fresno.

Put simply, I’ll support any business that meets my needs, which are usually defined by value (which is a varying perception of price and quality), and experience/customer service. I can forego attentive service if the value is good, and I don’t mind paying more if the service justifies the difference. But I won’t pay more—or even the same in many cases—just because a business is locally owned.

When it comes to food, I argue that many of the national chains offer superior service, as they have developed processes for meeting customer needs. Local eateries often have great food, served with a sense of entitlement or arrogance.

Of course, this isn’t a food blog (though I have one…hint, hint). A more relevant example might include bike shops.

A couple of weeks ago, an experience on my bike led me to thoughts of a photo contest, which I’d eventually like to host here—part fun, part community awareness. To encourage participation, I took initiative to contact six or seven bike shops and sporting goods stores via letter, asking each to consider sponsoring the contest with a gift certificate for bike parts or repair.

In a couple of cases, I sent more than one letter to different people at the business. Only one (REI) was a chain; this also happened to be the only business to respond to my request. Granted, it was a letter declining the sponsorship, but it was cordial, and addressed from the top rank. And again, it was sent.

If I keep riding regularly, I’ll eventually look to upgrade from my Wal-Mart special, and I’ll think back to my experience; I wouldn’t have looked to REI previously, but I just might in the future.

All that said, I might follow up the other letters with a phone call, in hopes that a more direct line of communication will draw in local support.