Reason 245

Biking. Seattle is known as a very bike-friendly city full of trails and special lanes just for cyclists, so, even though I didn't learn how to ride a two-wheeler until the ripe old age of eight, I've always known about bicycle safety and etiquette. The village I am currently vacationing in boasts over 35 miles of bike paths, and since our unit comes equipped with two old-school coaster brake bikes, my mom and I start and end almost everyday here with a long ride. I tell you, Jason, singing showtunes while cruising in the early morning sunlight and spotting the occasional deer makes for moments of pure bliss. I bet you and I would be the talk of the town if we pedaled by a gaggle of golfers belting out "Sign" from Annie (with me singing Ms. Hannigan's part, naturally - my dream role). What isn't so happy-making are the dolts who swarm the trails en masse, either on foot or on bike, ignoring my shouts of "On your left!" until I get so frustrated (and close to them) that I scream out "You need to move or I will hit you with my bike!" Yeah, that actually happened yesterday. I also love the cyclists who believe they're above the rules and can ride on the wrong side of the path (we aren't in England, buddy), zip through tunnels instead of dismounting as the signs indicate, and stop in the middle of the trail, confused about which roundabout will return them to the comfort of their suite at the nearby swanky resort. Since my parents raised me right and I'm not a moron, I don't exhibit any of these thoughtless and dangerous behaviors. You can ride with me, Jason, secure in the knowledge that I will stay to the right, walk my bike when required, and even call out a friendly "hello" to those I pass. All bets are off if I see a big-eyed doe munching on grass, though. Adorable wildlife seems to make all rational thought dribble out of my head into a pool on the path's blacktop. Damn you, Bambi!