Possibly the best thing about taking the bus is the ability to just sit and watch the scenery. I don’t do this all the time, but some days it just works out that doing that is the only thing I can do or the best thing I can do. Today I rode a bike in but left it downtown so I can take it to Devil’s Gear tomorrow for some minor repairs, so I didn’t have my usual satchel and hence didn’t have the book I’m reading. There’s also the fact that I’m doing this commuter diary, so it occurred to me that it would be a good day to see what I can see.
- In New Haven, we were uncomfortably close behind a cyclist on Whitney Avenue, but I found myself empathizing with both the bus driver and the cyclist. I’ve ridden Whitney, and it’s this kind of thing that I hate about doing it. (That, and the potholes.) The drivers don’t tend to give you the consideration you deserve. On the other hand, the driver has a job to do, and riders to pick up donw the line who don’t care why the bus is late. To boot, this cyclist was not going as fast as she could (I don’t think, but I shouldn’t make unfounded judgments), when one of the things about riding on Whitney is that you should ride at your top speed out of concern for your own life, as well as mutual courtesy with the drivers.
- Something I’ve never specifically noticed before, but did today, were the truly gorgeous oak trees in some places along Whitney. Across from Hamden Hall and then again at the Whitneyville UCC, there were a couple of real stunners. My guess is that they are 100+ years old, and I’m glad to see they weathered last year’s storms. It seems like trees aren’t getting replaced when storms take them out.
- Crossing Whitney Ave. in Spring Glen (but not in the center of town) reminds me of just how unfriendly to pedestrians certain parts of our otherwise-friendly neighborhood are. The nominal speed limit is 30, but it sure seems to me like the actual traffic flow is more like 40+. I’m almost obnoxious about cruising very close to the speed limit, and when I’m driving 35 there are people who pass me like I’m sitting still. It’s a shame, really, because it means that the road divides a neighborhood and means that children with friends across the raging river probably end up being driven to see those friends for far too long.