Motorized traffic takes a terrible toll of animals, as any bicyclist can’t help but notice. Every time I ride I see the casualties of drivers who speed, drive recklessly, and some who deliberately alter their paths to hit turtles, raccoons, and skunks. It’s unusual to see dead turkeys, though. They’re normally alert and wary, but one was too slow to take off and paid the ultimate price.

As you drive the roads, be alert to those who are in your path, not just cyclists and runners, but also the wild animals who might be crossing or sunning themselves on the pavement.

 
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I don’t feel right riding a bike without a rearview mirror. Why? Because I don’t like nasty surprises, such as drivers sneaking up and laying on their horns, or motorists who are driving up the shoulder because they’re distracted by talking on their cell phones or checking their make-up in their rearview mirrors. I want to know what’s coming up behind me. That doesn’t mean my eyes are glued to my rearview mirror all the while I’m riding. Instead, my eyes scan front, sides, and back constantly. I notice more of the natural world this way, too, like the deer and fawn I saw yesterday crossing the road after I passed them.

Not all cyclists agree with me about mounting a rearview mirror. Some bicyclists think that rearview mirrors don’t look good on their steeds. Others feel it’s the motorists which should look out for cyclists, dammit. And go-faster-and-faster cyclists want to squeeze every last bit of speed out of their rides, and anything that sticks out causes drag and slows them down. I appreciate aesthetics as much as the next cyclist, and I demand my patch of the road, and it sure is fun to go as fast as possible, BUT, I also want to stay alive. A rearview mirror has helped me do that.

The cost of a rearview mirror won’t break the bank, and it’s as necessary a piece of safety equipment as the blinkies I put on all my bikes. When riding a bike, the wind is in my ears—self-generated or atmospheric, it makes no difference—and that wind noise can mask the sound of vehicles approaching from behind. Why not just turn my head around and look to see if there’s anything there? Because that takes time, affects my balance, sometimes alters my line of travel, and is less efficient than sweeping my eyes from side to front to side to front. I can see in the rearview AND see what’s to the left side in one go.

Last week on a country road (no guidelines painted on the sides or down the middle) I was yet again convinced by the utility of a rearview mirror. It’s a pleasant biking road, one I often traverse. Woods and wetlands border the road for several level, straight miles, and the wind is usually blunted by the trees. I was driving a car down this road (a rare occurrence) when I came up behind a pair of cyclists I’d never met before. They seemed to be a middle-aged man and woman on comfort bikes who rode side-by-side down the middle of the road, leaving no room to either side for a car to pass. They pedaled at a leisurely pace and chatted while they rode, weaving all the while. The worrying thing was that they were completely oblivious to my presence. I followed at their pace for perhaps half a mile, and even though they turned their heads to one another to talk they were unaware a car was behind them. I didn’t want to startle them by honking the horn, nor did I want to side-swipe them by passing, especially because the woman was wavering dramatically into the oncoming lane, but I didn’t want to be stuck behind them for several miles, either, and the chances for passing them were coming to an end.

The cyclists did not have rearview mirrors, and they apparently couldn’t hear my car. I was about to tap the horn in as soft a toot as it would manage when the woman turned to talk to the man and chanced to notice the headlights—I use them even on bright days, such as that day. She wavered so dramatically in her surprise that I eased my foot down onto the brake because I thought she’d fall in the middle of the road. Luckily she did not fall, and she and the man squeezed together to allow me to pass, but even so I had to move into the oncoming lane. When I checked them in the car rearview mirrors, they were back to wavering down the middle of the road.

If I’d been one of the aggressive drivers I’ve met on that road when I’ve biked there, those two cyclists would have had a much harder time of it. They’d have been startled out of their wits by a loud roaring and honking not 10 feet behind them, then side-swiped and perhaps even struck or blown down. With rearview mirrors mounted on their handlebars, though, they wouldn’t have been taken by surprise, and could have moved to one side to allow me to pass. Of course, they’d have been alert enough to look into the mirror, but that’s a topic for another time.

 
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