Is there too MUCH illumination?

I am really interested in being visible.  I realize that this is what I see most of the time: 

It's not such a bad view.  I mean, don't get me wrong--I'm not constantly looking down over my front wheel.  I am constantly looking out for what's around me.  But no matter how alert we are, there are important details and tags that we will miss in the environment around us.  This morning, I almost got totally creamed by a minivan turning left in front of me because I wasn't watching over my shoulder at that moment.  It happens and someday it may be the death of me. 

I'm thinking of this because, having spent much of my life behind the wheel of a motorized vehicle, I realize that motorists are missing as much or more than I am.  The minivan driver maybe didn't even see me.  It was after sunrise, but early enough that I still had my lights on.  Dawn and dusk are certainly the times when we are most likely to miss things--the lighting is odd and sometimes there is fatigue to complicate the whole affair. 

With all of this in mind, as you see above, I am riding with two headlights.  I run one solid and one flashing in an effort to be as eye-catching as possible but still be able to see where I'm going.  I also roll with two tailights--one on my seatpost and another on my helmet.  My front wheel has two red spoke-lights which improve my visibility from the side.  I wear reflective bands on both ankles and have reflective highlights on the shoulders of my jacket. 

I'm all for visibility. 

Riding the bike trail portion of my commute, though, I am often confronted with this view:   

Which often leaves me utterly unable to see where I'm going.  Last night at one point, I had to actually stop my bike and wait for my fellow cyclist to pass on by. 

I hadn't thought carefully about this until this winter.  I have been reading a few other cycling blogs, most pertinent here is the Lazy Randonneur:  http://thelazyrando.wordpress.com/2011/01/02/i-dont-hate-dinotte/

In a series of articles on bicycle illumination, he makes some excellent points about lights that are TOO bright.  In particular, I hadn't considered that an ultra-bright tail-light may actually blind an unsuspecting motorist.  Maybe it's just impolite to flash that red thing at other cyclists on the bike trail? 

I am maintaining my lighting arrangement but with a few caveats.  I have taken to intentionally turning off my brightest lights when I encounter other cyclists on the trail.  I think this is a good first step.  The result has been that about half of the cyclists that I meet do the same, which probably improves the experience for both of us. 

Thusfar, I have not adjusted my lighting when I am on city streets.  The Randonneur is comparing some pretty friggen BRIGHT lights--so bright that they are out of the realm of what I ride with.  Some of my comrades on the bike trail are putting thousands of candlepower out on the trail, but my brightest light is a Planet Bike 1W.  The brighter tail light is pretty common, the Planet Bike Superflash.  I have followed this light and am not dazzled by it.  I am making an effort though to keep it pointed horizontally and not into the eyes of my fellow citizens! 

Anyhow.  I'm not trying to complain.  But it is something I'm thinking about.  I appreciate the roughly 50% of cyclists that have taken to dimming their lights when they pass me on the trail! 

The Night of the Dark Salmon

Deep in the dark recesses of Sacramento, there lurks a creature more dangerous and more menacing than even the morning commuter.  I speak of the Dark Salmon and I fear my daily journey into his realm. 

Last night, I encountered the Dark Salmon.  Fortunately, I lived to tell the tale.  I did shout and I did swerve, but the Dark Salmon did not strike me. 

I was riding home from work, on the right side of the street as we often do, outside of the British Commonwealth.  There was oncoming traffic and the lights were a little blinding.  They weren't so bright that I couldn't see the pedestrians walking along the shoulder, though.  I avoided the pedestrians.  Perhaps these pedestrians saved me?  I wonder this because, a split second after passing them, a dark figure swept into my field of view. 

The Dark Salmon was riding an old mountain bike.  He was dressed in dark clothes and had no lights.  He was riding toward me and, had I not moved to avoid the pedestrians, it might have been pretty nasty.  We passed so close and so quickly that I shouted in momentary terror.  I was so close!  I fear the Dark Salmon.

Nevertheless, I will continue defying death by riding my bike with the flow of traffic.  I will continue to defy norms and customs by illuminating my bike and making myself visible.  I will do what I can to avoid altercations with others who use the public rights of way.  Perhaps one day, the Dark Salmon will do the same.