This past week we’ve only had one van. The other one is in the shop for repairs. As a result, we’ve been creative with transportation solutions, running errands by bicycle or simply staying home some afternoons.Inspired by this forced experiment (and with this post from Anne Jackson still affecting me a little every time we fire up the van on a Sunday), we decided to ride our bikes to church this morning.The weather was perfect, and the whole gang was game to try it.We appreciated that our town created a bike path we could use to get us most of the way there, safe from traffic.When we turned on the road that leads to the church, however, the bike path ended. This road cuts through a residential section of town, neighborhoods on either side of the street. A 30 mph speed limit is posted.After we turned, we planned to cut over to the sidewalk that started up about two blocks from the corner.This meant that for about two blocks, no more, the road had no bike lane, not even a shoulder, and no sidewalk. That was the only tiny portion of the entire 30-minute ride that required us to share the road with motorized vehicles.Two blocks.To be safe, we rode two abreast instead of single file, hogging the road a little bit. Bicyclists are told to do this because it forces the cars behind to treat the bicycle as another vehicle and pass at an appropriate time instead of slipping past. On the remote chance that The Boy would unexpectedly swerve toward traffic or a car would attempt to skim past us too closely and actually graze one of us, riding two abreast actually kept the cars at bay for that short distance. A few cars stacked up behind us and couldn’t pass because of a little rise in the road where the drivers couldn’t see oncoming traffic. Instead of passing, they had to putter along behind us for those two blocks. We were getting close. We were just about to cut across the grass to the sidewalk.Then the honking began.Honk! Honk-Honk! Honk-honk-honk-honk-honnnnnnnnnnnnnnk!While the car continued to honk, we all rode over to the sidewalk after that extremely brief time on the road. We watched the five or so cars that had been held up for probably less than one minute get up to speed and move on.The honker turned out to be a purple Mini-Cooper.We know this, because they kept honking and honking as they passed us.We know, because they rolled down their windows and stuck out their arms.Both the driver and passenger flipped us the bird.They yelled something, as well. Thankfully, I couldn’t make it out.They continued to honk as they sped off, and I started laughing. I laughed on and off all the rest of the way to church, actually.Something about the whole situation–a family with four kids on the way to church being flipped the bird (x 2) for inconveniencing a Mini-Cooper for approximately one minute on a road with a speed limit of 30 mph on a Sunday morning….I don’t know. Something about the whole thing just made me laugh.You know, as more and more of us make choices to slow down, simplify, lower our impact on the environment, have fun, and be a little healthier, people will eventually adapt. Someday, drivers will be on the lookout for bicycles, neighbors won’t mind seeing a few clothes drying on lines in back yards, grocery stores will carry less expensive locally grown produce and/or organic options, and so on.In the meantime, those of us taking a few small risks as we experiment and alter our habits may be laughed at, ridiculed, cussed out and flipped off.It’s a small price to pay, I suppose, to be part of the first waves of change.In case of some ridiculous turn of Internet events the driver of that purple Mini-Cooper stumbles onto this post, please know that we do apologize for inconveniencing you for those 45 or 50 seconds of your life. We are peace-loving people who prefer to be helpful and encourage others; we hate that you were annoyed and aggravated by our eco-friendly experiment. And I wasn’t laughing at you; I was laughing at the fact that we got flipped off on our way to church. Even though it’s kind of sad, it’s also kind of funny. At least, I thought so at the time. I may be wrong, but I think it could be considered situational irony.We might be out there again some Sunday morning, however; and, while we hope to find an even safer route, it’s remotely possible that our paths may literally cross again. It’s possible we could slow you down again. I apologize in advance and hope that you won’t run us off the road. Or flip us the bird.In fact, in anticipation of that possibility and at risk of going out on a limb, I thought I would offer you this link to a short Web page highlighting what the Bible says about patience. Perhaps it will be helpful to you.Enjoy your Sunday evening.And if you happen to find yourself behind a cyclist again sometime, try to be patient.And please, say a little prayer for him or her…and know that someone has prayed for you, as well.