The end is near.
😂😂😂
Electric cars are supposed to be the great savior of the environment, and the next chapter in the story of wheeled transportation. And I suppose if this had come about thoughtfully and carefully, at a measured pace that would allow people and governments to transition sensibly and sustainably, perhaps it would be more widely accepted by — and accessible to — a larger majority of drivers.
Instead, competing types of cars were introduced at lightning speed before the longer mileage issues were worked out, and before there was sufficient infrastructure to support a nationwide transition away from fossil fuels. And as in so many instances of chest-thumping in capitalism, there were buffoons with too much money and too little consideration for the greater good elbowing their way to supremacy.
And this is how we got here:
This is the Tesla Cybertruck, a monstrosity of steel, excess and
testosterone unleashed onto an unsuspecting world by Elon Musk, the
founder and CEO of Tesla and a whole lot of other things I won’t bother
with here.
A stainless steel hard-on. |
Anyone who earns enough to spend his money this way — and I’ve yet to find evidence of a woman buying one of these things — and buys in has drunk a poisonous brew indeed. You think that buying something like this is going to get you into the same club as Musk or Bezos? Nope. You’re just rich guys aping the super-rich, and you can’t keep up. You could do a lot better, so much more truly good stuff, with your money, and you chose to spend it on this? You don’t have enough political juice to persuade state and local governments to make roadways, parking spaces and garages bigger so you can park your hundred thousand dollar Hot Wheels(TM) Terminator(TM) edition clown car.
No pity here.
I decided I’d skip Coffee Outside this weekend, and go to the Pedalpalooza kickoff party and ride instead.
I enjoyed myself while I was downtown, bumping into friends and ogling the wide variety of bicycles and other human-powered vehicles.
I arrived a little before 3:30 and enjoyed the proceedings, walking around and snapping photos.
By 4:30, there were several thousand people gathered, filling the North Park Blocks while waiting for the start of the ride at 5pm.
At 5pm, the ride kicked off, cruising slowly to NW Broadway, then turning left to cross the Broadway Bridge. I pedaled along slowly, finding myself surrounded by other riders whose bikes passed me, sometimes with less than half a foot between us. Once upon a time, this would not have fazed me at all and I would have easily held my line without worry.
Today, though, was my first group ride since before the pandemic, before Covid and Long Covid and everything else. And today, I simply could not feel comfortable holding my line with others passing so close. I got dizzy and a little thrown off, and I knew I would have to pull over and get out of the way. My Pedalpalooza Kickoff Ride was over after four blocks.
I pulled up onto the sidewalk, feeling sad and sorry, and then I watched as several thousand riders in a dense bunch streamed past me.
I knew I had made the right choice. I was sad, and also philosophical about it. Long Covid, a long hiatus from riding and the passage of time had taken away some of my comfort, stability and confidence. It had also taken away my stamina. I knew immediately that even if I had felt comfortable enough in that huge crowd, I wouldn’t make it over the bridge and up the hill to Laurelhurst Park, some six miles away. It was all just too much for the rider I had become now.
I waited until the last of the throng had passed me, and then I turned and rode towards the nearest MAX stop. I would ride the train up the long hill to Overlook, them hop out and ride the last two miles home.
Riding alone, I felt less wobbly and mostly held my line. I wasn’t trying my head quickly either way to look out for other riders, and I was riding in a bike lane, and that was preferable by far.
I stopped at Peninsula Park to admire the roses, most of which are in bloom now. It was a good way to end my evening, and I was able to feel gratitude for being able to ride alongside such beauty as this.
Enjoy Bike Summer, and happy riding.
Seen today in my FB feed.
Twenty years ago, this bike would have cost at least $1,200. And it would’ve been worth every penny.
Not today.
Ridiculous.
Everyone seems to be chasing after cookie-cutter, mass-produced e-bikes, while masterpieces like these sit ignored and unridden. Very sad.