It was the end of a long day of class. I was exhausted, and it was finally time to go home and take that nap I promised myself I wouldn’t take.
But first, I had to make my way back to my car, which I left in the commuter parking lot — otherwise known as the other side of the universe.
I found my beloved bike, hopped on and started peddling toward the commuter lot.
Almost immediately, the familiar sound of a car engine driving much too close to my rear end came up behind me. It’s always a really unsettling thing to hear because it feels like the car is trying to push me off the road.
I get it. It was after five, the person driving the car was in a hurry to get somewhere, and I was an inconvenience. I felt bad because that was not my intention. I was just trying to get around.
Then the driver honked his horn at me.
This not only threw me off, but it made me angry. What did he expect me to do? Disintegrate into the atmosphere so he could get by me?
Shortly after he beeped at me, I had to make a turn and he kept going straight. I’d say it was only about 60 seconds total that he was driving behind me, possibly even less.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen cars honk at bikers. Just a few weeks ago, I saw a driver honk at a girl innocently biking down State Street.
This shows how impatient and entitled some drivers have become, especially around campus.
Trekking from one side of campus to the other on foot can be inconvenient and time consuming, and it will more often than not leave you regretting your choice of shoes for the day.
Biking is a much quicker alternative, but bikers are caught in an awkward limbo between pedestrians and automobiles.
The sidewalk is overcrowded with pedestrians, walking always too slowly and often in packs. There never ceases to be that one person who walks in the center of the sidewalk, managing to block the entire width of the pathway.
If bikers attempt to use the sidewalk, they get caught in a slow, painful bike ride behind people, and will no doubt receive dirty looks from the ones on foot that suggest, “Get the hell off this sidewalk. This is our turf!”
“Bikers belong on the road,” they say. So to the road we go.
The conditions for bikers on LSU’s campus are rough. There should be biking lanes, but there aren’t. Consequently, bikers are left with no choice but to share the road with the big, bad cars.
The roads are cramped, unjust and sometimes scary. It’s no secret that in the event of an accident between a biker and a car, the biker would receive the fatal end of the stick.
Bikers are a very misunderstood community. They’re unwanted on the sidewalks, and they’re unwanted on the road.
It’s unfair, and bikers deserve better treatment. It’s time that we as bikers demand some respect and understanding from the car-folk.
The next time you’re driving behind a bike, give them some space. Know that we, like you, are just trying to reach our destination safely.
If it means you have to drive just a little slower than you’d like, so be it. It’s not the end of the world and does not justify aggressive behavior toward us.
Just because you have the advantage of being in a car doesn’t mean the road is yours. Bikes take to the road because they have no other feasible options.
Pedestrians, bikers and drivers must all exercise caution and patience wherever they go. Only then will LSU be a safer, easier place to navigate.
Shirin Chowdhury is a 20-year-old English literature and writing and culture major from Manhattan, Kansas. Find her on Twitter @TDR_schowd.