It’s Sausalito on a warm Saturday afternoon. The sun is shining and a stream of bicyclists coasts down the hill into town along the bay-side road. Each cranes their neck a little to the right to enjoy the views of San Francisco and the bay. They’re a diverse group: American and foreign, rich and poor, tourist and local, fast riders and slow riders, solo riders and riders with large families, carbon racing bikes, cruisers, and fixies. Each rides along with a content and relaxed air about them, enjoying the sunlight and their lazy weekend.
A car slows down and parks on the side of the street. The extra traffic in the bike lane had made parking slower than usual. A stately woman emerges from the car’s passenger side and looks around with a distressed look on her face. Before walking the final few steps to the restaurant not far from her door, she says in exasperation, “They really must do something about all these bicycles!”
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