Terrorism on the Burke Gilman

I relocated to Seattle from Eugene in mid-August, and immediately began to plot possible cycling routes from a Ballard/Fremont starting point.

The most convenient ride that came up: The Burke Gilman Trail.

For readers outside of the Seattle core who might not be familiar, the Burke Gilman is a 27-mile mixed-use trail that starts in the Ballard neighborhood and heads northeast long the northwest side of Lake Washington. It connects with other existing trails, is planned to connect to even more planned trails, and is the focus of ongoing controversies and disputes.

As far as cycling goes, I tend to focus less on plans and controversies and more on whether route conditions will fulfill my selfish urge to pedal. I had a suspicion about the kind of obstacle course it would present to a cyclist moving at a brisk pace: Pedestrians, in-line skaters, dogs, kids, strollers, joggers, and other bicycle terrorists like me.

Picture
My Urban Assault Bicycle, a 1989-circa mountain bike outfitted for the streets, poses at the Wall of Death on the Burke Gilman Trail.

On most days, and at most times of the day, a rider like me is an absolute menace on the Burke Gilman. The City of Seattle has an official safety code, and trail etiquette standards that are very reasonable, but difficult to pull off if you are rolling faster than 15 mph. I take limited solace in the fact that I’m not the only troublemaker out there.

Danger and menace aside, a spin on the BG can offer a good way to get in a short, intense cycling workout. There is always a target ahead to chase, and almost every ride quickly precipitates a 2-3 person paceline (which violates the official Trail etiquette…) that gets the adrenaline flowing.

The time slot around the evening commute usually provides a thrilling menagerie of athletic commuters eager to join in on a terrorist offensive of the Burke Gilman. I keep a lookout for riders on expensive bikes and wearing oversized waterproof backpacks. These riders leave a huge vacuum behind them, which makes it effortless to follow along. Other times, I feel the presence of riders in my sllipstream telepathically communicating: “Puleez tow me all the way to Woodinville.”

I’ve had a few encounters with riders on fixies. This usually involves someone with dramatic purple dreadlocks trailing wildly behind, and no helmet. Eager to demonstrate their pedaling superiority, they intially take the lead and I tuck in behind to rest. Unfortunately, to date, none of these encounters have lasted long, with the fixie rider popping off on one of the slight rises along the way.

Now that Fall is here and I’m growing out of my rookie approach to Seattle cycling routes, the BG holds less and less interest. My training as a terrorist on the Burke Gilman is coming to a close.

More about plans for the Ballard end of the BG.

The Seattle City plan for the Ballard extension.

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