Jump the Paint!

Yesterday i rode through the intersection of Eastlake and Fuhrman. They've recently painted a green bike lane there to make this very dangerous intersection a little safer. (I witnessed a car hit a bike there once.)  I looked down at the road paint and was reminded of a particularly notable crossing of this intersection back several years ago.

I was heading to a late morning appointment near the University. I'd taken mostly back roads and trails down the hill, but now i was on the major artery.

I was focused; riding with motor traffic northbound on Eastlake Avenue, i knew i had to scramble.  I was very alert -- the south end of the University Bridge, just ahead, is a notoriously dangerous intersection. I looked down the block and saw that the light at Fuhrman Ave had just turned green; if i hurried i could cross the angled intersection with Harvard Ave, make the full block and pass through the traffic light safely right before it changed, leaving me with a car-free gap at the beginning of the bridge; which is exactly the timing you need to safely negotiate the worst sections of the bridge.

There is a bike lane along this block, it's a dangerous one and i frequently avoid it, nevertheless i was aiming for it. As i crossed the first intersection i saw three orange traffic cones placed close together entirely across the bike lane -- there were three more cones, widely spaced, blocking the right car lane. There was no indication of why this was.
I didn't have time to think about it; there was a car revving it's engine right over my left shoulder preventing me from swerving into the left traffic lane.

So i split the cones and went into the blocked off right travel lane. I had accelerated for that move and was moving pretty quickly, but i could see that there were no obstructions. There was no construction work or material in the lane.  I was familiar with this.  Frequently construction zones can offer cyclists a bit of protection from aggressive motorists, so i was pleased and a bit more comfortable alone in that empty lane. 

I glanced, as i often do, at the DON'T WALK signs ahead -- these signs are kind of a pre-yellow light, they help let you know when a light is getting ready to change. It's a very useful little trick when cycling in the city. By the time i was in the middle of the block, the DON'T WALK signs were flashing, time was getting short, but i felt i could still make it, so i sped up a little. There was still no evidence of why the lane was coned.

As i approached the green light at the end of the block, a worker jumped out into my lane and started waving his arms and yelling.  Only then did i notice that they had just painted the 18 inch wide stop line moments before and, understandably, he didn't want me running through the wet paint.  Road paint.  I didn't want me to run through it either.

Once on a ride to Port Townsend, along a bumpy chip seal road, i moved over to ride on the white fogline, a common trick to find a smoother ride. About 250 meters later i came around a corner and saw the paint truck ahead of me painting the fresh white line. My bike, and legs were covered with white road paint.  Road paint is permanent.  It didn't come off my bike until i had it sandblasted for painting, over a year later.

Now i had a problem. I was going to make the green light, and i was protected in that coned off lane.  There was a worker in front of me, and wet paint across the road.  I was going pretty fast, probably too fast to stop.  There are several things i could have done at that point. It's even remotely possible that grabbing a big handful of brake could have skidded me up to the line safely. 

I only had a tiny fraction of a second to make a decision and i made one. Generally my traffic instincts are good, but i'm not going to defend my decision this time. I went for it. I shifted and accelerated hard.  I needed speed for what i was going to do.  The worker yelled at me again, not nicely at all.

I got to the freshly painted line at speed and did a bunny hop, just picked the bike up with my feet and sailed through the air. I can't always pull that off, but with the advantage of speed, i flew though the air quite a long way.  I landed it beautifully, softly on both tires at the same time. It felt like a long leap, but i wasn't sure i had pulled it off.

As i sped across the intersection towards the bridge i heard the same worker shout, "Hey guy, that was really good!", and laugh.

There was no wet paint on my tires. I cleared the line!