To the Editor:
July – Saturday, midday onto Rt. 1 from Federal Street is always a task to be taken seriously; I see the driver of a car with Massachusetts’ plates: left directional on, is reticent. I take the plunge and pull out in front of him asking myself if I would have cut him off had he Maine plates. Maybe: probably.
I see cyclists too. Must be 30 bikes in a row, evenly spaced about 15 feet apart, each with a matching tall, orange flag. This long line of helmeted riders, each with its bobbing orange flag, strikes me as balanced: proper. I see one biker’s face: serious, focused. It is the anxious face of a teenaged girl among a group of cyclists descending the long hill through the downtown at a good rate of speed; peddling hard, keeping their speed up, even as they are going downhill, all pedaling together fast.
As I pull out onto Rt. 1, I see again the seriousness of these cyclists and what they are doing. Cars everywhere. Pot holes. Will a car pull out in front of them? They are snaking fast, efficiently through the town and the face of that one young rider towards the rear strikes me: a young girl, about the age of 16 with a determined, serious, anxious look on her face sticks with me. I realize she is working very hard to keep in line, to keep up, weaving down the hill on Rt. 1 with all these bikes in this summer traffic.
We are now on the long bridge crossing the Sheepscot and I hear something; are they talking? I hear a bark: a command, an assurance? Is that other biker saying something, too?
Overtaking these bikers I realize that they are shouting one by one, passing assurances, one bike to the next from the back bike all the way to the front bike — 30 bikes ahead. I hear a single word here, a name there. I realize they are continually checking with each other and being there for one another as they diligently risk their way through town at this high rate of speed. What impressive teamwork! What communication! It sent shivers up my back as I pulled along side and overtook these strong focused kids on a summer day heading up Rt. 1, working hard.
Bryan Buck, Wiscasset
