Monday Blues: The New Norm

 There was time, and it was not even very long ago, that a ride along the bike path to the coast was a relatively peaceful affair. Sure you'd have to keep an eye on the people riding toward you from the opposite direction while staring into their phone, or hope that some one rider in the middle of that big pack of quick moving wheels wouldn't suddenly swerve out to jump ahead a few spots in the line. And then, there was always that one guy with the home-made put-put motor spewing out that blue smoke that would stick in your throat for miles after he'd pass. Everyone else pedaled along at their own pace, some slower, others faster. Peaceful. 

Several years ago, though, things began to change. The pedal assist bikes, the e-bikes became popular allowing people who, for various reason, would otherwise not be on a bicycle to now travel to the coast on two wheels rather than four. Like many pedal only riders, I have come to accept the presence of those, but my, the floodgates that have been opened. I continue to be amazed by what has become acceptable, in peoples' minds, to ride on the river trails leading to the coast. You've got the "bikes" with motors and wheels so small and wide (they used to be called motorbikes) - even when these things have pedals on them, if they were to break down for what ever reason, you'd be more likely to kick the thing down the rocks and into the river and walk because it would be quicker than turning the pedals at two or three miles per hour. The put-puts are still out there, but where you might see one a week a few years ago, now there are multiple each day, and don't get me started on the outright motorcycles - I can't tell you when I last rode the San Gabriel River Trail and didn't see at least one. This past Saturday, heading back up river from Seal Beach, the unmistakable sound of another motor came from ahead - oops, make that four motors (a family by my guess); to their credit the "dad" was out front, ostensibly controlling the speed, but I can guarantee you those bottom brackets were not going to suffer from overuse. I would be surprised if those cranks made a single revolution the whole day, and I am pretty sure those kids cruising along unencumbered with breaking a sweat, would have been better served by a little physical struggle. Most amazing, though, was the guy with the baby - BABY - perched, not secured in a seat, but perched on the top tube of his motor bike which moved along at an easy thirty mile-per-hour clip. The full-face helmet, not made for a head that small, would have flown off and been completely useless in a crash. 

sorry for the poor quality, but I didn't have a photo of my own - surely in this overabundance there is at least one sign that says no motorized bicycles

The Monday Blues has been an occasional feature here at the blog since inception; the blues, an emotion, a color, a genre of music, with a cycling twist.