The MacKinnon Ravine Smooch Cam



My boss doesn't read my blog, so I can comfortably reveal that I am never in a hurry to get to work. Okay, that's not quite true. Not the part about not reading my blog, because I don't think she does. And that's okay. I mean the part about not being in rush to get to work. I ride a bicycle. So, it's definitionally difficult to rush to work. If I really put my legs and lungs to the task and get lucky with the traffic lights and nothing strange like a cement truck happens to me, then, maybe, I can shave a couple of minutes off my commute time, tops. That's what I mean by not being in a rush to get to work.

I do leave early to compensate, though. (That's in case she reads this one.)

All of this is to say that instead of ringing my bell and requesting-forcing passage by the dog-walking couple in front of me this morning on the MacKinnon Ravine bridge, I hung back, pedalled slowly, looked east to the downtown skyline, west up the spruce-lined valley, down at my jammed front derailleur, making a note to get it fixed, humming through the traffic din the part in Ashes to Ashes where Bowie's character sings I'm happy, hope you're happy, too, following red taillights of passing cars, and then looked back up and ahead, and then my patience was rewarded.

They kissed.

Watch the video above to see the love scene unfold. It's grainy, but that's the reality the old Go Pro Hero3 delivers. (Brian, thanks for the loving, slo-mo treatment.)

Yes, I felt vaguely voyeuristic, and I tried to dent that discomfort by joking with them about getting the shot of the day as I slid by at the end of the bridge. They were good natured, predicted that this would make them famous, and then our paths diverged.

As I pedalled away, the sense of invading their private moment faded.

After all, it was a private moment on a public bridge. And I was happy that I was moving slowly enough to see it and publicize it. And that I was recording. On my way to work.












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