“Drivers are terrible here. They cut you off all the time. They have signs for cars and pedestrians, but often I do not know what I am supposed to do, where I can go. A motorcycle cop gave me a ticket for speeding once.”
But are you proud of that?
Photographer’s notes: I would love to get a ticket for speeding. Exceeding the designated limit. Just one. Something of a badge. I passed this rider at the base of a long hill. I had wanted to stop and chat, but I also wanted the momentum for the climb – and ease of riding won out. Then, I could sense he was behind me, caught him in my peripheral vision, and pressed a little harder on the pedals, expecting him to fold and disappear. No such luck. I pressed a little harder, but now more entertained at trying to tease him to ride faster. He could certainly notice me taking glances over my shoulder to spot him, trying to make the effort seem effortless. At the top of the hill, we were both breathing a little heavier for the effort, but both perfectly aware that we were playing cat and mouse.