Me? I'm a presser. Hop or roll up the curb, reach down, press that sucker three or four times to be sure. But I bet some people are non-pressers. Either cyclists who wouldn't cross that curb barrier to touch a damned pedestrian button for a million bucks, or drivers who see me do that and either think I am stepping over some imaginary no-no line, or else think to themselves (like I do when I'm driving), "I wonder if that makes the light change faster." But, in fact, I don't press it to try to make it change faster, only to ensure that the light waits long enough for me to get across the street on my bike, and isn't a quicky-green that only lets two cars turn left and then goes red again. On a day like today, a 70 degree mid-December bike-riding nirvana day (I'm sending warm happy sentiments out to all the people living in bitter cold places today, don't hate me because I don't live in a cold place or in a traditionalist bicycling monoculture that suckles off the cold gray days like we all deserve them--we don't), I would be happy to sit in the sweet sunshine for several minutes waiting for the light. It will turn. No big hurry. The weather is just as perfect on this side of the street as the other. True, I'm not spinning down the canal on my single speed on this side of the street. I'm sitting waiting over here to go over there and start doing that. But the light will change. The bike will carry me across. OK, maybe I'll press it one more time, the bike and me want to move now. A friendly "It feels like Spring" barbaric yawp to everyone. Today's 30 mile spin in the sun was on the single speed below. It could have gone longer, but Other Things Beside Riding had to be done today. Lube up the chain though: tomorrow is Sunday, and the forecast is for 72 and sunny. Get up. Go ride.