Daily rides down Baker Avenue can provide a myriad of emotional experiences and expose one to a wide range of human behavior. 

I left the Pilot office last Wednesday and a kind motorist let me into traffic on Baker just north of Second Street. I’m often impressed by the generosity of some harried drivers. No matter the season, the line of traffic toward the mountain is long and I often prepare to sit by the bank and wait, but usually, within one minute, someone will give me the nod. 

As always, I waved, hoped they would lip read as I said thank you aloud, and flashed a peace sign to the kind soul who facilitated my drive home. 

Councilor Andy Feury has noticed the kindness on the road, too. At the end of the Aug. 5 Whitefish City Council meeting, he stated that he’d been pleased with the number of times drivers have been courteous recently. He said it was remarkable.

“We live in a pretty good place,” Feury said. “Traffic is hard, but I think people have been trying to be very accommodating and I just want to thank visitors and residents alike.” 

I cruised past the post office and the WAVE, basking in that good feeling a small act of kindness can elicit. The feeling was short-lived.  

A few blocks later, an SUV pulled out in front of me with a move known as the Montana pullout. My initial response was to grumble a few choice words. A typical Montana pullout would have required me to dramatically reduce my speed, but the offending vehicle sped up with such rapidity, I had no need to hit the brakes.  I found myself giving the daring driver silent props for the risky move. 

We navigated the turn at 19th Street and I was fourth in line to turn onto Spokane when I noticed the bold SUV had its left-turn blinker on. Not only is there a “No Left Turn” sign posted at the corner, but the street itself is emblazoned with the directive “Right turn only.” Yet, the blinker was a-blinking.  

The two cars in front of the SUV took their right turns but the SUV did not move. The driver appeared to be searching for something on the passenger side floor. I waited about four seconds, the one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi kind, since that is the polite thing to do, then gave a gentle honk. 

Instantaneously, the driver of the SUV, a woman with a blonde ponytail threaded through a pink ball cap, gave me a one-finger salute. More startling than the gesture was the speed and conviction with which it was delivered. 

She rolled forward, determined to negotiate her illegal left turn, and as I skirted around her right side, I showed her that I, too, knew something about ornithology. 

I much prefer to share a wave and a peace sign, so I will forget about the reckless scofflaws out there and remember the considerate champions like the ones at the corner of Baker and Second.