A recent morning in downtown Tampa could not have been more perfect had city boosters photoshopped the whole thing.
Sunlight bathed the tall shiny buildings as people walked and jogged the newly opened ribbon of Riverwalk, following its curves along the edge of the city. A leashed beagle stopped to socialize with a setter. People sat on benches and chatted and looked across the water, where rowers sliced across the surface with the picturesque University of Tampa minarets as a backdrop. It was exactly how you want your town to feel.
Then the woman in front of me nearly got creamed.
The guy was riding what was probably thousands of dollars worth of bicycle, helmeted and gloved and dressed in the requisite stretchy fluorescent uniform of the Serious Cyclist. He came out of nowhere, flying around a blind curve behind her, hollering: “Left!”