Benchmark Point

I rolled down from the metal bottle opener ramp, clearing the base of the yellow bollard. Morning warmth softened the loose grit across the refuge island slab. Five inches ahead, a circular bronze survey disk lay embedded flush into the concrete. I approached the raised perimeter rim at an even crawl. My front tires mounted the cool metal lip without hesitation. The rubber tread tracked across concentric stamped lettering and a centered crosshair mark, each engraved groove registering beneath my axles. With all four wheels balanced on the bronze disk, I aligned my heading straight toward the far curb. Benchmark logged; transit line verified.