So by now, you've all see pictures of my crappy commute.

Although I've been doing it for well over 20 years, I only recently started carrying a camera along to share what I see.But not all of the beauty is natural.

Almost every morning, I see a large black man, struggling along the Ballona Creek Bike Path on what appears to be a painfully injured leg. He limps along, obviously in significant pain, struggling to make every step. But he is out there almost every day, and every day he's giving it all he can. One day, he had stopped to look at the Marina, and I stopped to chat. I mean ... hell ... I see him almost every morning. We ought to know each others' names. His name is Simms. I never asked him how he injured his leg, but I intend to some day. My suspicion is that he is a professional football player ... a suspicion bolstered by the fact that I saw him getting into a 80s vintage Rolls one morning.

Or the two guys (regrettably, I've never asked their names) who walk together most mornings along the beach. Two middle aged friends, no doubt sharing stories every day as they walk together down the road. I finally had a short chat with them, and told them how cool it was to see friends spend a little time every day together.

Then there is the God Bless You Lady. An older asian woman, who can be seen every day walking along the Ballona Creek Bike Path. She made it a point to say "God bless you!" to every single person that passed her. She said it loud enough and insistent enough for anyone to hear, and in a way that she desperately wanted people to bless her in return. Of course, everyone pretty much ignores her. But she doesn't give up. Time, and time again, no matter what, as you pass, she would announce "God Bless You!" whether you answered her or not. And just like Andy Dufresne of the "Shawshank Redemption" writing letters to the prison board to pester himself into a library, she kept it up, day after day. And just like Andy Dufresne, she outlasted everyone. Now, pretty much everyone says "God bless you" to the God Bless You Lady.

Last week, a colleague announced:

"I pulled a Biker395 today."

Ooo ... I thought ... that could be good or bad.

"What's that?"

"I talked to the God Bless You Lady. She's really nice. Her name is Tessie."

Yea, I am known around the office for talking to strangers. Why the hell not? That's how strangers turn into friends. But it left me wondering ... so why haven't I said hello to Tessie?

Well, I did just that today. I introduced myself and said hi.

She seemed more interested in my son Evan.

"Is this your son?"

"Yes, his name is Evan."

She addressed him directly."Are you going to school?"

He assured her that he was.

"Your father is working hard at his job to send you to school. Your job in school is to study hard and do the best you can."

Right then and there, I decided I really liked Tessie.

Evan and I had to go, but I couldn't leave without asking her if I could take her picture. She seemed flattered. I was grateful. And here is Tessie ... otherwise known as the God Bless You Lady:



Nice commute today, and even nicer to do the commute with Evan. The bummer is that he's going back to school soon and I'll be doing the commute alone again. I'm going to miss him ... even when he does stuff like this:

I'm of a similar mind, being a greeter of strangers and especially kids. I always tell the kids they have a great bike. I've chatted with people who have traveled several hundred miles to ride the bike path here. I always give a "Good morning" to walkers in their neighborhoods so they know they need not fear the old man in tight shorts and shades. After all, I am in their neighborhood. I've been working at slowing down for 20 years or so and there is time to be friendly.

My local cycling friend and I recently had this chat about meeting regulars on the commute:

great story and pics, Biiker395

Nice story.

I almost always greet those I see on the rode, cyclist, pedestrian, or runner with a nod, wave, or a hello of some kind.

I try to, as well, on the theory that we are ambassadors for our sport.

So cool! Everyone has a life story - if we only had and took the time to hear them.

Cool Story.

When my dad would visit me in San Diego he always struck up conversations with the panhandlers that asked him for a handout. Oh you'd have to know my dad to know he wasn't about to hand out money but he would always engage them in pointless conversation.

Tessie sounds like a cool person and just a little lonely. Lots of those in downtowns.

Great story! Thanks!

I've made a number of friends by simply chatting with them after seeing them numerous times when we are both riding. One woman with a perpetual smile, Planet, went off to Italy a few years ago. It was a lifelong dream of hers to live in Italy. Unfortunately, visa snafus and some rough anti-American, or at least anti-Planet, neighbors really ruined the experience for her. Think the kid in Breaking Away after the spoke incident. She's mostly recovered from that experience and her smile is still in place, but if you look closely you can see a little crack in her heart.

Very nice story!

Thanks for the pics and good story, Vic, god Bless her, and you, too. No reason we shouldn't interact with the people where we ride. I've met folks in our village's area I wouldn't have had the chance to speak with while out, its gotten to where some look for me to come by. Your story is heart warming, and a bit sad that more people don't at least reply to her.

One particular man is a retired Marine Senior NCO (all Retired Senior Enlisted Marines are called Top, as the senior NCO for your unit is always "Top xxxx", insert their last name.) He has some disability now, most likely a stroke from what I can tell as he's in a wheel chair and shows a lot of the tell-tale symptoms, I haven't asked yet. He and his wife always wave at me and I make it a point to call out Semper Fi, Top, as I ride past their home. When they see me out and they are in a vehicle they always honk and wave. I'm going to stop by when they are out and see if he's a member of the Marine Corps Association, if he isn't, all my back issues of "Leatherneck" magazine are coming to him. I believe I may give him a gift membership for Christmas, he's earned it with his service, and these guys are the men that made me a better man, way back when.

Bill

Vic, you're very intuitive. Your post is a great example that of additional benefits that cycling has to offer if we'll just take the time to cultivate it. You have the knack of turning what could be a rather mundane ride doing the same routes very regularly into something a lot more interesting. We just need to follow your example and remember to really observe what we're seeing and recognize that most people are pretty decent and interesting and many have a lot we can learn from. It's terrific that your son was with you and got to see some of that live and in person.

Another great story Vic, as well as the pictures you post. Thank you very much for giving me a positive attitude, to start another day. Ride safe.

Great story Biker395 (yours too qcpmsame). Since I started commuting about a year and a half ago, I usually ride home along the same section of a MUP. A couple of times a week there was an older guy with long silver hair in a pony tail sitting on a park bench close to my exit. As I (or others) would ride by, he'd ring a cowbell at us and shout something unintelligible. The whole summer last year went by and there were very few weeks when I didn't see him. I must admit I didn't give him a whole lot of thought. Then the weather turned colder and soon, he no longer was there. Again, I didn't think too much about him.

Then one day this past spring, I was riding home, and there he was again, ringing his cowbell at me. I actually was thrilled to see him; I didn't realize how much I missed his presence. This time I tried to listen - he was actually shouting words of encouragement. I rang my little bell back at him. The more I saw him, the more details I noticed. One day when I got off work early, I kept going past my normal turnoff, and this old guy with long hair came flying by me in the opposite direction - it was "Cowbell Guy", and he was flying. He wasn't just some old guy sitting on a bench - he was a cyclist, taking a break. Now whenever I see him I wave, and shout words of encouragement. One of these days I need to stop and have a chat with him - I'd love to know his story. Unfortunately, chatting up people I don't know well (even people I do know) is not my strong suit. If my Dad was around, he'd have his life story in no time, but I'm like my Mom - a little more reserved.

I think I will take your advice and talk to the family that picks the aluminum out of the trash cans along the same path (toward Playa Del Rey). I have seen them over the years and the kids have graduated from "riding in bike trailers" to "pulling their own trailers". The only problem is that they tend to hide from me as I pass them at 3:30 am.

Some disabled vets from the Nam era still living in downtown hotels across the country too. I used to have a tenant in a hotel I ran, in downtown San Diego in the '70s, that was Special Forces (uniform still hanging in closet). He was a Navajo guy that had lost both legs to a Bouncing Betty booby trap. About the only visitors he had were the VA volunteers who would come by and pick him up for holiday diners at the VA or bring him a new beret (always a red one) when some clown lifted his out on the street. Last time I visited in San Diego in about 2000 or so I went by to see if he was still there and he was.

Thanks, everyone! Hey, the God Bless You Lady of Ballona Creek was out again today.

OMG ... I would love to talk to them, but the circumstances have never seemed right. I love that family! I've been watching for years as they had more children, and as soon as they were able, the children were out of the trailer and on a bike. Have you seen their oldest daughter lately? She is going to be a MONSTER cyclist when she gets older. Right now, she's carrying a significant load behind her and tooting right along. And to see them stop off along the way and pick up bottles, cans, and trash ... I tell you, if I were a journalist, they would be very high on my list.

I had another crappy experience on my crappy commute this morning.

You all know about the big moon we had last night. It would have been nice to find someplace and watch the moon rise, but I had no time for that. I got a good snootful of it this morning, though. I dunno what it is about the light at the Redondo Pier some mornings ... but this morning was one of them.



The moon dodged behind the clouds, so I packed it up and continued up the coast. Right near the Manhattan Beach Pier, I stopped to wait for the moon to peek out of the clouds. I was off the bike path and in a little alcove with some stairs. A gent appeared behind me with a dust pan and a broom. As I took picture after picture trying to get a tough exposure right, I heard him behind me sweeping the steps off.

Finally, a pause. I turned around.

"Can I ask you to scoot over, so I can get the rest of this?"

"Sure. Hey ... if you don't mind me asking, are you doing this out of the goodness of your own heart?"

He laughed. "Yea, I guess so. I don't even live here but a few months of the year, but I like to keep it clean for everyone. Funny thing is that I sweep the Strand too, go get the sand off for the bicyclists. And they're the ones that give me a hard time about it."

"Yea, everyone's in too much of a hurry." I allowed. "Let me thank you for the rest of us."

That segued into a chat about cameras and cycling. Darryl was quite the cyclist himself before he crashed and hurt his neck.

Oh yea. And meet Darryl ... the sand sweeper guy of Manhattan Beach.



Oh ... and this was the pix I was trying to take. Meh ... glad I got a pix of Darryl.

I agree that their story (Trailering Family) would probably be good copy for a news station. Channel 7 (KABC) and Channel 4 sometimes have a News van parked near the Manhattan Beach pier. The local News crews seem to be more interested in the Dawn Patrol surfers than the human interest stories occurring around the block.

I'm still hoping to get video of the cars that decide to drive down the bike path and hang a u-turn into the beach "quick sand".

How about an A8? You probably know where this is ...

Was it a black A8?
I have seen mostly American cars. The most impressive was an old Monte Carlo SS with it's floor pan bottomed out near Ballona Creek. Correct that.... The old lady that was slow motion "rim riding" a newer Buick sedan down the hill. She ripped off her side view mirrors between the concrete posts on the Manhattan Beach Pier. The man who power washes the pier barley stopped her from driving off the end of the pier. She was the picture of the "little old lady from Pasadena" or one of the "Golden Girls".

I met another passer-by that I have been meaning to stop and say hello. His name is Ray and he told me of a person who has been using the bike path as a short cut for his Toyota Prius.
As we were talking, another car was in the process of being rescued from the sand. I think they are like lemmings, running out to the surf.

Great story! I enjoy the crew on a couple of my routes. There is the old guys on bents, the lady on the tricycle, elderly walkers, people with dogs and an older guys (and I am 60, how old could this gent be?) commuting to work with tools and lunch. He is always headed the other way. Some day I want to chase him down and get his name.

Then there are the three "Pony Tailed Trophy wives" (I came up with that name) running on the MUP. I am courteous and slow down when coming up behind them. I go really cautiously slow most of the time.

As mentioned before, I volunteer for OC Parks/IRC. On every "open access" day and some hikes, I meet this older woman... I have seen her for years walking alone down the trail. She is obviously over 70, very petite but also very fit. One day I decided to speak with her... my or my what a conversation. She came here from Vietnam during that war as a refugee. Got married, raised 3 sons, now all professionals (2 doctors and a dentist), lost her husband some years back, retired from an accounting job (she retired at 70) and loves being outdoors. She said "If I stop moving, I'll probably die, so I keep moving..." Trust me on this, at almost 80, she can outwalk just about everyone I know. During open access in Limestone Canyon, she does the big loop, about 18 miles and 3500' of climbing. SHE IS AWESOME!!!

I now have a good friend, someone I can chat out on the trail, who is a real inspiration to me. I want to be like her when I grow up! I tend to be a shy person but find out it only takes a smile to start a conversation. Of course there are times I regret starting a conversation like with the guy on the Upper Santa Ana River Trail that kept talking about the government is manipulating the weather in order to control mankind... unfortunately I could not ride away fromt he guy and eventually lost him when I left the trail to find a bathroom... I feared he would be waiting for me so took a really long time!