I woke up early this morning and spent all day teaching and teaching and teaching and by the time it was done I really needed to just put it in high gear and pedal as hard as I could for twenty miles. So that’s what I did. I headed over to the entrance to the levee bike path behind the zoo, looking forward to just going. But just as I rode up the train gate went down, red lights flashing, and I snapped this picture just as the train was zooming by. I wasn’t in the mood to wait, and neither were the soccer moms–moms bringing their kids to soccer practice. Each bicyclist and jogger did the same thing: get a little too close to the train for comfort, peek underneath, consider whether or not there’s a way to sneak through–I mean, we’re not stuck in cars, so we should just be able to cross–and then come to terms with the fact that there was no crossing; we were all going to have to wait. I passed the time taking pictures of the different cars, trying to figure out what was in the black barrel cars (verdict: Sherman-Williams paint–think it’s just sloshing around in there?), and watching three boys in their soccer uniforms get closer and closer and egg each other on just a little bit and I thought about giving one just a leetle push (kidding!)…and then the train was gone and we all went our separate ways–only two of us out the levee path. I rode as fast as I can until I decided to turn around and ride home. Next time remind me to bring a mosquito body suit for these dusk rides along the river.