>>Tonight I left at 5:30 pm and rode home in the heart of rush hour. It was already dark. There were cars everywhere, headlights and brake lights thick and blinking, like being a ranch dog in a big herd of steel cattle. Traffic was so thick that for some of the ride, I was moving faster than traffic, passing them in my bike lane, even up a modest grade.<<

I moved 3,000 miles to be in Portland on the strength of its standing as bike capital of the U.S. When I got here I took one look at all the bikes flowing over the Burnside Bridge and said... that's way too many bikes... cool, but, herds of cars, herds of bikes... I could have stayed back east. Then I found Hillsboro. I have the bike lanes mostly to myself. There's room for a couple more cyclists. But only a couple, don't tell ALL your commute buddies.. Just slip away in the dead of night and live free...

>>This made me nervous. Most drivers figure if they haven't recently passed a cyclist then they can turn right no problem. So I was worried about being right hooked. To my surprise the drivers did in fact seem to be checking the bike lane before turning, on several occasions a car clearly waited until I passed to make its right turn. <<

Even way out here in the Western burb's the bike awareness of the cagers is above average. Why are you surprised? How long have you been a Portland Cyclist? Actually, I wish they would just turn and get on with life. I'm not going to get to the intersection for at least 8 seconds, even at 16 mph. PLENTY of time to make your turn and be on your way. But all the hand wringing from Cycling Advocates have put the fear of God in the cagers and so they wait and wait... THAT'S what makes ME nervous, in NYC a driver held that long might just lose it and bolt when he realizes that waiting another 3 seconds is going to make him get in deep tofu with his old lady.

>>My lights seem to make me unpopular with other riders, as I come up behind them, they see their shadows in the growing pool of bright light, then they swerve and look around for the bright menacing thing, when they see it is another cyclist and I can sort of feel their irritation. Or maybe I'm imagining it.<<

You are. Cyclists aren't bothered by headlights, even flame throwers, that come up from behind. Its when they have to face one oncoming on a narrow path that some annoyance might enter into it.

>> We commuters seem like a surly lot, there's never any chit chat or even hellos or waves as pleasure riders often exchange. It feels like we are grimly, intently forging through the minefields and dangers, and have no thought to spare for each other beyond "I hope it's him and not me".<<

There is some truth to this. I don't see many other commuters. When I do, its usually on. I only need one more kill for my next ace. Grrrrrr.

>>On the rear I had double red blinkies, which felt just a little inadequate in that sea of red lights. I think I will investigate amber blinkies<<

I hope you fight this. Two blinkies and the now standard neon-yellow cycling jacket are plenty. You are riding in Portland, OR, not New Delhi. Amber blinkies? Why amber? That would only confuse cagers. Amber lights are running lights i.e. side marker lights or turn signals.

>>and more reflective tape. Some riders with panniers put big patches of reflective tape on the back side of the bags, and they stand out like glowing warning squares. Seems like a good thing.<<

My panniers came with big patches of reflective tape already on it. Hmmmm... so did the rack trunk from Nashbar... so did the Yak Sak for my Bob trailer. So does my rain jacket... you don't have to go out of your way to be visible. Everything you buy these days has reflective material applied to it. That's where it belongs. If you get out a rolll of reflective tape I have to wonder what you are planning to apply it to? Your bike? Bad idea. Drivers aren't looking down there, they are looking up at you. If you buy half-way decent commuter tires they will have reflective sidewalls. I hope I am never in the position of having to rely on them to save me because that would mean I am just seconds away from the Mother of All T-Bone collisions. Ouch!

H