The train, it comes for me

We live less than a mile from the Sunnyvale train station. The commuter train, Caltrain, uses the tracks through here, and the easiest street to get to our house crosses the tracks right next to the station. On weekends, two trains an hour go through here, one each direction. Chaz and I have a joke, that the trains plan to pass (thus the crossing guards go down to stop traffic) just when I arrive at the train crossing, because we're frequently stopped by trains on weekends.

Today Chaz and I rode our bikes to downtown Sunnyvale to try out the new Mexican restaurant. (Short review: the specialty dishes are interesting and tasty, but everything else -- rice, beans, service -- sucks.) My bike was about three feet from the crossing when, sure enough, bells rang, lights flashed, and the crossing bars came down.