Way to welcome a new cyclist Portland

I was so excited. On Sunday I bought by Blue Superstar (Pajama Party) at Portland's Bike n' Hike. But I was a little scared. Riding in the road? Never did that when I was a kid. But I decided to try. The first day I rode up Pettygrove and was overtaken by a woman desperate to get to the intersection. She realized in the middle of it that there were stop signs.

Then today happened. I'm leery of crossing Vaughn without some kind of traffic guideline. But I'm also eager to use my bike on the road so I'm a little less afraid. The two ideas collided today.

I turned left on Wilson, then right onto 25th. As I did, I hopped up on the curb and pressed the crosswalk button. My bike isn't heavy enough to set off the light sensors to change from red to green. I saw my white man and started to cross. I saw a red SUV start to turn left onto Vaughn. I figured it was my light so I kept going. And so did he. I paused and he aimed his vehicle in the middle of the East and Westbound lanes, or otherwise exactly where I was at. I was terrified. I yelled at him "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" and he started yelling at me about walking my bike across the road and about how stupid I was. But he kept coming. I managed to make it across and in a fit of adrenaline tried to see if he'd stopped at A-Boy. He hadn't.

But this was bullying of the worst kind. He saw me, he just decided to teach me a lesson. I guess. Nevermind that I'm riding the most inoffensive bike ever, a blue starry Electra and am a timid cyclist. I called the police, who told me that unless they witness a road rage incident, they don't take police reports. And then proceded to tell me that "just anyone could report these things." I laughed. I was sobbing and this man had threatened me with his car. The female officer had the compassion and bedside manner of a leech. She got defensive when I outright laughed at how stupid it was. I hope she never ends up in victim services. Maybe that's why she's manning the phone at non-emergency.

I wanted to stop riding then. But a few margaritas and watching the swifts land in the Chapman chimney made me reconsider. My blue starry bike and I will go on to live another day. We'll just watch closely for fat middle aged men in maroon SUVs and not count on the Portland police.