Last night’s Maple Wheelers ride was great (a severe understatement, to be sure). Here’s a link to the route map if you care to take a gander. And while the ride itself takes pride of place (a nice route, somewhat longer than usual, covered in two hours to the minute), it was what unfolded in the final leg that was most deeply appreciated and is certain to be remembered for a good long time to come. Fellow cyclists of every ilk, here, for your sinister pleasure, deep enjoyment, and delicious satisfaction, I offer you a glimpse of the Fates’ favor.
As the bulk of us were crossing Chicago Blvd. on Occidental, a driver, eager to make the light, swerved around us, made ample use of his horn, and then threw a an assortment of nasty looks and accompanying hand gestures in our general direction (which we happily returned in kind, of course.) Moments later, a police officer, who had been waiting in the westbound left-hand turn lane on Chicago Blvd., flipped on his lights and gave chase. Apparently, our righteously indignant scofflaw had run the light after it turned red.
The lead group mashed the pedals in hot pursuit, quickly caught up to the aforementioned parties stopped at the side of the road, and photographed the incident as we coasted by with a newfound swagger. The look on the driver’s face was positively priceless.