On the way home from work yesterday I encountered my first "turn left in front of me" asshole. Guy in a huge pickup. The streets were completely empty at that point in the city, which is odd for that time of day. How he didn't see my rather large frame on my rather large bike with the bright light when it's the only thing on the road in front of him I don't know, but he didn't.

Luckily I had just glanced in the mirrors and knew no one was behind me. I managed to swerve to his rear and get stopped before it became a problem. I'll just say I'm glad it happened the way it happened and leave it at that.

I took my first ride on the interstates last night. Just a quick circumnavigation of the big city of Sioux Falls. Takes about a half hour or so.

On the last leg, me holding the left tire track on the right lane, I glance in the mirror to see another bike holding the right in staggered formation. He holds up one finger, points at me, holds up two and points to himself. I nod.

A few moments later I glance in the mirror again. Two more bikes fell in behind him.

Before it was all done, I was one of seven, staggered, at seventy miles an hour. I held steady speed and just let the road take us where it would take us.

As my exit approached, I signaled my intentions with a raised hand and a point at the "1 Mile" sign. The others backed off slightly and let me get to the right side. As I took the exit, and they continued on shuffling formation to place the new number 1 on the left tire track, I saw each raise a fist in the air, back of the hand towards the back of their bikes. I returned the gesture then geared down for the stop light ahead.

Full of feelings of warmth and camaraderie for a group of guys I'll never so much as say hello to, I headed into town and down to Falls Park. Coming up around Phillips into downtown, I see a guy on a crotch rocket behind me. We stop at a light and he pulls up beside me. He snorts derisively. "Nice bike." Then he rolls his eyes.

He was sitting astride an R6. I happen to like those bikes, even if I wouldn't ride one myself. I just say, "works for me man. For what it's worth, yours is pretty sweet."

"I know, dickhead." With that, the light changed and he took off like someone shoved a rocket up his ass. The speed limit on that street? 15 MPH.

Three blocks later, I see him pulled over with a cop car in front of him, and another behind him. I wave as I pass by.

Going down Minnesota Avenue on my way home, I see a guy on a little bitty scooter coming the other direction. I give him the underbar wave. He looks terrified by it, like he thinks I just gave him the death curse. I felt bad for the kid. You got enough guts to ride the second busiest street in town on a scooter dude. And you appear to be doing it right, holding a line, not causing traffic problems, and pretty much being awesome. You fucking rule and I wanted to show you props. I'm gonna have to figure out a less threatening wave to give scooter riders.

On the way into work there's one small section of Cliff avenue I travel where there's only one lane in each direction. I left approximately two car lengths in front of me between me and the next car, but otherwise stayed in line with the speed of everyone else. The guy behind me was going insane. Push, push, push, swerve like he thinks he can swing around me, push, push. When it went back to four lane he quickly swung around me, ran up to the car in front of me, and cut back over. Five miles later, we turn at the same corner. He's right in front of me. What'd he gain from his ultra-trick maneuver? Two car lengths and the possibility of causing an accident with either me or the other car in front of me.

I tell Mrs. NFB these stories and she asks, "are you getting discouraged?"

"Hell no. At least no one has done anything intentionally to try to run me off the road like people used to do to me on the bicycle. I haven't had anybody throw a drink at me, try to toss lit cigarettes at me, or try to swipe me with their mirrors. This is a fucking cake-walk."

I also told her the positive experience and she asked if that made up for no one waving at us last Saturday. I had forgotten all about that. I don't keep score. I wave when I see a fellow two wheeler on the road if my left hand isn't busy clutching. To me it's the same thing as saying hi on the multi-use paths. You just do it because it's what you do. Doesn't matter if you get a response or not.

As I gain experiences, I gain confidence. As relaxing as that first ride through traffic was, I'm far more relaxed now and I'm only a week in. New experiences still happen each day, but that's the way it works. I imagine if there wasn't something new each time I go out, I wouldn't be so fascinated with it.

The bike gets her first bath this weekend. I need to line up some cleaning supplies, especially something for chrome and something for whitewall tires.

"You're going to obsess over this like you do your bicycle aren't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much, sweety."

"Just don't let me catch you with the q-tips and toothbrush again."

"Then don't come outside while I'm cleaning it."