the best defense is a good set of bull horns

To be a cyclist in Boston means living life a little closer to the edge. A simple ride down the street to work may mean narrowly squeezing between heavy, moving traffic and a pulled-over bus; or riding with a whistle firmly in one’s mouth, lest drivers (and other bikers) miss your presence in the bike lane.

A motley crew races in the margins each day: skinny guys speeding on fixies; smartly dressed ladies riding cruisers; students with backpacks on rusting mountain bikes. Each seems to have a method, be it pedaling with seemingly reckless abandon in hopes that the cars will yield, or slinking over to the sidewalk, much to the chagrin of pedestrians.

One thing is for certain: it’s a car’s world, and Boston is one of the least biker-friendly cities, according to the Globe (Although the mayor would like to change that). Today, I saw two efforts on the part of cyclists to make a little more space on the road. One bike, locked to a rack outside work, had a very large set of bull horns affixed to the handlebars (it also appeared to be adorned with fur). On another bike, belonging to a man in full spandex who was riding during rush hour, the rear rack was sporting a little flag — typically the type from a child’s bike to call attention to the little rider — except this one was pointed horizontally outward, offering a little buffer between the rider and passing traffic.

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