Rant: Cyclists

Now that we’ve officially ditched winter (I know, I just jinxed us by writing that), Coloradans are dusting off their bikes and hitting the streets. This is great news—for the most part. Most mile-high cyclists use our state’s roads courteously. (I’m not complaining about you law-abiding folks.) But there is one particular group of riders that irk me because of their bad behavior: Cyclists who ride side-by-side on roads with skinny shoulders so they can attempt the difficult task of holding a conversation while breathing heavily.

Just the other day, I was driving up Left Hand Canyon to go mountain biking and encountered a handful of riders pulling this side-by-side stunt. I had to swerve into the opposite lane to avoid their spandex-clad behinds—a move I would prefer not to make in an automobile. Look, as both a driver and a cyclist, I’m all for sharing. But pedaling double-wide down a mountain road isn’t sharing. It’s taking—and it’s not safe. As cheesy as this saying is, I think it applies here: safety first. I’ll add: A personal best just isn’t that important.

Rave: Indoor Plants

Spring has sprung on the Front Range, and, oddly enough, it’s got me thinking about the plant sitting on my desk that thrives despite having almost no access to natural light. I’m not a plant guy; I always end up killing my potted greens. (Once, I killed a cactus in a matter of weeks.) But I’m enamored with this desk plant (pictured), which, despite my best efforts, seems healthy.

My girlfriend gave me this plant about five months ago when I started my new job at this magazine. I’m sure she told me the name of it, but I can’t remember what it is. I do remember her telling me it’s often used in malls, where, like my cubicle, there’s very little natural light. Whatever its name, I’ve enjoyed having this living object on my desk, which is otherwise littered with papers, pens, and post-its. It’s a nice companion on days when I’m stuck for extended periods in front of my computer screen. I’d recommend you track one of these no-light-necessary plants down, if I only knew what it was called.*

*My editor informs me that it is a Zamioculcas zamiifoia, otherwise known as a ZZ plant.