Ride at Your Own Risk

I work at un-named retailor a mile and a half from my apartment.  The M-7 bus literally stops in front of my apartment building, but with all the stops and starts and the nanny's with their charges and the seniors with their walkers (and dont' even get me started with the wheelchairs) the ride can take 20 to 25 minutes.  If I ride my bike it takes 15 minutes easy.  The problem is fighting the taxis, delivery trucks, messenger bikes, and pedestrians. 

Without getting too detailed, let me explain the bike route.  The most obvious route would be to take the Columbus Avenue bike lane from 108 to 83rd, but much to popular belief, Manhattan is not flat. The road from 108 to 93rd is very hilly with a lot of major uphill battles.  Remember, I am on my way to work. Showing up perspiring, with my hair plastered to my head with sweat is not ideal.  Central Park West has the flattest terrain, but the bike lane is only going south (perfect for riding home, but not getting there).  This is my preferred route, but going against traffic is against the law and some bicyclist will go balistic on you for riding in the wrong direction. 

Once a month I go into work to do an update of the store with new merchandising.  We arrive at 6:30 a.m.  It would seem that at 6:00 a.m. going the wrong direction in a bike lane would not be an issue, but you would be surprised.  One morning I was riding against traffic and the bicyclist coming towards me said in a very cheery voice, "Good morning, Salmon."  I wasn't sure what he had said.  The second month I came across the same guy on a Sunday morning at 6:15 a.m. "Good morning, Salmon,."  I was trying to figure out why he was calling me "Salmon".  Then it struck me - salmon swim upstream.  I appreciated his humor much more than I appreciate the insane, self-appointed bike lane police who cuss you out.  And no, I'm not exaggerating.

TAXIS STOPPING IN BIKE LANES




The other night I was riding a few blocks up the Columbus Avenue bike route heading home.  There is a grocery store on 91st and Columbus so I was riding the wrong direction on the downtown path.  Most of the cyclists I passed were delivery messengers who regulary go whatever direction gets them to their destination fastest, so they don't say anything, but this one guy caught me at a stop light.  He started screaming at me, "You are going the f#$@ wrong direction.  What the f*^%$ do you think you are doing.  Get off the f^%&# path."  (you get the idea).  I honestly thought of getting out my cell phone and calling the police telling them I was being assaulted, but the light changed and I was able to peddle away from his tirade.  It's really hard to shake off a madman screaming and cussing in your face, but I get cussed out at least once a week for my direction choice.   Don't think that I am alone riding in the wrong direction.  I see law breakers riding towards me all the time when I am in the right, but needless to say I don't say a word to them, because I understand their fear of riding with the motor traffic with no skinny white line to set a boundry.

DELIVERY TRUCK BLOCKING BIKE LANE FORCING CYCLIST TO RIDE IN TRAFFIC LANE


 

On the days that I do ride down Central Park West with traffic and go without the safety of the bike lane line to keep me safe I come across all sorts of obstacles.  The biggest object is the double parked delivery truck.  That forces me into the fast lane with all the other street traffic racing down the road. Another hidden danger is the fear of a driver who has just parked on the curb opening his door, so that you are suddenly confronted with a wide open door blocking your way.  I've heard of bicylcists going crashing into the door and over their handlebars, a term in New York called being 'doored', but I've never had the encounter myself  (fingers crossed).

I WAS ABOUT TO GET A GREAT PHOTO OF THIS WOMAN RIDING NEAR LINCOLN CENTER, BUT SHE ABORTED HER MISSION AND JOINED THE PEDESTRIANS BECAUSE THE TRAFFIC WAS SO HEAVY 

Last summer I didn't have a helmet or bicycle lights.  I have since added a helmet and a front and rearlight to my bike.  Forget reflectors, you need battery operated lights in the front and back so that both drivers and other bicyclists can see you blinking in the distance.  I must admit that I don't always wear my helmet to work because, as I said before, I am trying to get to work looking pulled together, but I always wear one at night when I ride home.

 

October will come and, with it, cold weather.  In a way, it offers a sense of relief not having the option to ride the bike, because to say it's dangerous is in no way an exaggeration,  But on an afternoon when I'm running late switching gears from one job to another and I need to get to un-named retailer in 15 mintues or less there is no subsitute for riding Jordan's lime green Townie to work (she gave me permission to ride it while she is in Japan).  Riding my bike to work has become part of my New York summer.  Someday I will look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking at 50 years old, fighting traffic and insane bicylists, but for now it's all part of the adventure.

Melinda Malcolm Neiblum verses NY State DMV

I have held onto my Colorado license for two reasons, 1) it's a good photo and 2) having it still makes me a Coloradan, but time marches on and license expire.  So... in May I headed off to the DMV to officially become a New York State resident.  I read all of the reviews on Yelp and thought I knew the ins and out of getting a new license at the Herald Square DMV. I arrived 30 minutes early per the Yelp instructions and stood next to a very irritated Asian woman who told me that she is a plastic surgeon and she had received a DWI after only a few glasses of wine and was now being put the ringer by he court and the DMV. After a long 30 minutes we were let in. Per the Yelp instructions I skipped the wait in the information line and headed straight to the line for photos.  I showed my identification papers to the disengaged girl who accepted what I had as proof of identity.  She then asked me to read a yellowed eye chart on a pillar behind her.  I was wearing my mono vision contacts.  In Colorado the test is a simulated road test which the mono vision would have worked well for, but an eye chart? tried and failed.  She said I could repeat.  I sluggishly continued. She said, "If you can't read it quickly you fail."  I replied, "Then I fail."  She gave me a form and told me that I could have my optometrist fill it out if I have current prescription for eye wear.

I went to the eye doctor.  He tweaked my prescription but told me the DMV should have passed me with my mono vision contacts. But now I had the current form filled out.

I returned three weeks later. 

Again I arrived at 7:30 a.m. to get in line.  This time the man I was standing next to was the embodiment of Ed Norton from the Honeymooners.  He talked non-stop about having to take time off of his construction job for the city to get his license renewed.  I had on my headphones but he ignored them, so I eventually just took them off and listened to him drone on.   Let me just add the building had scaffolding on the outside so the line was under the scaffolding.  When he ran out of things to say he would do pull ups on the scaffolding.  He was 40 if he was a day, so the pull-ups added to the absurdity of the situation.  Ok, 8 a.m.  We are let in.   I went directly to the photo line.  The woman asked for my identification.  "Sorry, this is not sufficient.  You can see a manager and see if they will accept it."  I was sent to another window and a manager reviewed my documents.  She looked at my birth certificate, marriage, certificate, social security card, and Colorado license.  She said, "How did you get that social security card?"  I told her that the baby Melinda Diane Malcolm married Jeff Neiblum, and the social security administration saw fit to issue me a new social security card with the name Melinda Malcolm Neiblum.  DENIED.  She needed more proof.  I needed to bring in an addition piece of documentation to prove who I am.

Really?  Really? (I never even got to the eye exam)

I went to the bank and had my debit card re-issued with my full name and I had my life insurance policy add Malcolm as my middle name. 

To be honest I was in no rush to go back to the DMV.  Two early mornings down and still no new license.  I wasn't really sure that three would be a charm, but I was going to Missouri for a vacation and I wanted to have my New York State license in tow.  After two years living here I wanted to prove to my family that living in the city was not a lark but in fact I am a legal resident.  So I trudged down to 34th Street one more time.

I got there a little late so I didn't have time to befriend another DMV weary friend.  I got in quickly.  I showed my id to the first window.  She accepted what I had.  She asked me to read the chart. I showed her my documentation from my eye doctor.  She told me to stand in front of the blue wall for my photo.  Not really believing I would get this far I had on no make-up and my hair was flat, so I still wish I could have used my old Colorado photo.  I was sent to the next window.  I showed my paperwork.  I laid out my birth certificate, my wedding certificate (which he eyed for several minutes before approving), my social security card, my Colorado license, and my bank debit card and statement.  Slowly, very slowly he stamped my new paper license.  He said the photo id would be in the mail within two weeks.

I left the DMV on cloud nine.  I rode the subway home.  As soon as I stepped back into the sunlight I shouted, "Oh, @#&!."  I was flying to Missouri in three days and I had just traded in my only legal form of picture id for a paper document saying I had a license.

Here we go again.  This time - Melinda Malcolm Neiblum verses the TSA.  Sigh....