There's a line that runs through this city that is seven and a half miles long and 23 millimeters wide.

It's a line that I ride every day of the year, no matter what the weather is. I know every inch of it like I know my face. Every pothole, every bump. This line knows the smoothest, fastest path to take. It knows how to magically make every light turn green right when I hit the sidewalk.

Somehow this line expands my consiousness to a four block radius. It knows where to look in the mirror windows of the office building ahead of me to see around blind corners. It knows which street signs to look at for reflections of headlights. It sees every pedestrian. It tells me how far behind me the next car is, and if I should let it pass or take the lane.

Tonight, that line changed. It's path remains the same, but it's different now. I don't know how or why, but it didn't see anywhere to slow down. There were no cars to let by. There were no lights that were excuses for a brief cooldown so it would change magically for me. It was beautifull, it was faster than I'd ever rode.

Maybe it was learning how to use the upstroke with my knew pedals - maybe it was the driver in the bus lane that I was using on part of the line that I caught three times, yelled at three times, then got bored with and left in my dust. I don't know.

Eight hours later, my legs were tired from all the walking they did at work. I got on my bike to take the second half of the line home. It was 5am, and almost all of the city was asleep. Wide empty streets, with the line moving into the places it usually can't go. Places where cars become enimas. The line loved it, and kept taunting my aching legs.

I tried to take it slow, at the speed I do in winter, when the ice and snow and winds try to push me and my bike from the line. I think it laughed when the lights I didn't want to catch stayed green. It laughed when two consecutive red lights had only cop cars at them, both turning far away and in the direction away from me. Every time I tried to slow down, I only saw signs to go faster.

I hear there are some people that have many lines through their cities. I don't. I can get anywhere I need to go, but I end up doing it cautiously, not knowing what to expect. I envy them.

But I know this line better than anyone.

Very cool. I love that feeling. I got my own line, too.

good stuff...it is nice when you make the change from observer to ruling participant on a frequented part of your life. Well written HereNT
You are the Garrison Keillor of fixed gear (kidding!)

So how's it riding in the twin cities in winter? know any good on line sources about the cities?

All I can say is you guys in the Twin Cities who ride in winter have much larger b#lls (that was for don d.) than I do. Maybe I'm just a candy a$$ from California but it gets the bitterest cold there.
As for my line I have three. One to work, one to school, and one for my "blow off this $hitty day" ride. Glad to hear I'm not the only one who knows every nook and cranny of thier ride. Keep it up...that was poetic.

Cheers

Yeah, I love that feeling when you know a path so well it's like you have a third eye or sixth sense about how to negotiate it. Thanks for the good post.

My line probably intersects your line at some point. There is this section of my line that is like 8 miles long all smooth bike path sometimes crowded, sometimes hazardous, where it crosses traffic, but always a blast.
I love cranking out those miles. I get the bike up to speed and spin as long as I can. There's a section that's a sharp right then left, and I can get pedal strike. I'm sure on a hot day the tar might gouge. What is really fantastic is the late night race home, through the lightening bugs, deer, fox, and racoons. That's the part of the line I allow to surprize me.

It runs from Lake and Nicolette through downtown to just past where they're building the new Guthrie theater.

As far as winter riding, Nicolette's usually pretty good - they plow that one really fast. Most of downtown's good really fast, too. They tend to plow the snow into the bike paths, though. I ride in the bus lanes then - most of the bus drivers are pretty understanding about it. Second street by the river gets done first I think - that's where the crews get together each night for the shift changes.

Very cool stuff. I don't think I ever heard that feeling described so well. It's kind of funny how you become so aware of a stretch of road if you ride it every day.