Yesterday was 'Bike to school' day, apparently. I saw so many kids on bikes, riding with their parents, on my way home that I was afraid I'd succumb to a cuteness overdose. It's sad that today, not being 'Bike to school' day, not one kid was out biking with their parents, even though it was sunny and warm (60°F is what we northern folks refer to as 'warm', or 'shorts weather').

Scary moment on the ride in this morning: I was overtaking another cyclist on the MUP, a middle of the path wobbler on an MTB. An early morning drunk on his way back to camp somewhere in the greenbelt, was my thought, as I considered which side to pass him on. So I waited until he weaved to the right, dinged my bell, and passed on the left. Now, dealing with homeless inebriates is just part of living in Alaska, and rarely do they cause trouble or get aggressive during my regular encounters with them in the Chester Creek greenbelt, where many of them live.

This guy, however, exploded when I rang my bell, cursing up a storm and threatening to do me bodily harm. I have worked in construction, oil fields, commercial fishing, and kitchens, and am no stranger to foul language. It doesn't shock me, and I can give as well as I get; but this dude's vitriolic explosion was surprising enough to make me slow down and look back. What I saw was a younger guy, out of the saddle and pedaling hard, no longer weaving, face red and contorted with rage, screaming about killing me and coming on hard.

I quickly changed my evaluation from 'drunk' to 'insane', put the hammer down, and made amazing time the rest of the way to work. Seriously, I left the house almost 10 minutes later than I should, and still showed up with loads of extra time.

Dude, that sounds miserable. 90°!? I personally consider 65° and sunny to be the perfect temp, or 75° with a good breeze.