Two-part ride home on account of a rare post-work happy hour. At Bourbon Bar in Glover Park, I could watch the cyclist making the slog home up Wisconsin. That's probably not very fun. Only at one point did the conversation turn towards biking. My co-workers said that they hate it when bicyclists go through stop signs. I said that I do it all the time. I was going to offer an explanation, but the conversation changed directions and I had no opportunity to rationalize my scofflawism.
Having my fill of tater tots, which I'll unabashedly endorse, I headed down my usual route through Georgetown and over the bridge. A little windier than I wanted.
Here's the bike chain the lamppost I was talking about yesterday. If it goes missing, it wasn't me.
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| Is this yours? |
A near-Shleckian mishap going up the hill before Courthouse. I had passed a couple riding their bikes at the base of the hill (I was trying to rush home because I had veggie burgers in my pannier and the sweet potato chips were rapidly turning soggy on account of condensation. If you ever wanted to know why social conservatives think that all bike commuters are lefty snobs, you can blame the preceding sentence), but midway up the hill I tried to shift from my large front chainring to the smaller one and the chain got stuck diagonally somehow and I couldn't pedal forward. l. I was overtaken by the couple I passed earlier as well as someone I went by right after I got onto Wilson. I didn't lose the maillot jaune because there is no maillot jaune for bike commuters. It's not a race.
Smooth ride the rest of the way. The intersection of Wilson and 10th is dicey because many cars turn into the gas station right past the stop light, often without using turn signals. It's probably easier to take Fairfax and avoid that whole bit.
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