Trash day in the neighborhood and the garbage collection trucks were out and about, moving through the streets like the ghosts from Pac-Man and I, like cowed Pac-man in search of a power pellet, sought to avoid them. My nose isn't exactly sensitive (I don't detect the smell of banana especially well, so I've been told), but it's nose enough and knows enough to avoid that which wafts from the open back of a garbage truck. All of this to say that I turned right a block earlier than usual.
Bikes abound on the Hill still (The Hill Still would be the name of my never-to-be-launched moonshine-themed pub on Barracks Row, a commercial strip not to be confused confused with my never-fully-realized Israeli politician-themed caviar joint, Barak's Roe, which isn't to be confused with anything because certainly nothing like it exists) and I think that ridership will stay steady so long as the roads stay dry and so long as people don't leave for winter vacations. PROGRAMMING ALERT: At some point, I will be leaving for a winter vacation and there will be a cessation of blogging hostilities for more than a week. Just letting you know in advance. Advice to pass the time: read slower.
It's always a good idea to know where bus stops are along your route. Not because you're going to stop riding (Never stop riding. Once I stopped and put my bike on the bus and it took approximately 14 hours longer than it would have had I just continued riding. There was no mechanical issue- I just thought it'd be faster. This is almost never the case.), but because it's always a good idea to know when the bus next to you might be driven across the bike lane. Also, get a general sense of where buses along your route make turns because again, the whole not getting hit thing. You can either stay up really late and pore over maps and make one of those picture boards that connect all of the evidence that you see on crime shows or you can use my not-yet-trademarked Pay Attention to Stuff approach. I recommend the latter, but if you've got some unused cork board, photo paper and yarn, have at.
There's a certain kind of bike commuter who thinks that there is some pre-ordained order to the universe and that though one is passed previously, it was not meant to be so and that he (or she, in this case) ought to ride through ride lights in order to ensure that she re-establish her previous position to my front. Sadly, we don't live in a watchmaker's universe (the name of my closed-before-it-opened Casio superstore) and there is no rhyme or reason to these kinds of things. Just go as you go and let happen what should happen. I try to fight it when shoaled, but I should just learn my lesson and accept these things.
It heartens me to see other bike commuters ride through the formerly taped security bollards.
Did anyone see that girl downtown wearing the red pea coat, jeans and equestrian-style boots? How about the one in leggings (as pants) with the vest and the Uggs? Do you know her?
A goodly amount of bike traffic along 15th. Almost everyone I saw was wearing gloves, which is sensible. Tip: wear gloves. I read somewhere that it's sensible.
And here's my problem with the casting of the Eat, Pray, Love movie, which I've never seen. Shouldn't it have been Piper Perabo?
R street was only a little crowded with bicyclists. The guy in front of me was riding an older Raleigh ten speed. He didn't have a helmet, but he pulled his hood over his head, which probably impaired his peripheral vision (which is different from Perry Farrell vision) and maybe even hearing and perhaps inadvisable. I think that hats are probably better for head covering than hoods, but hats, for the most part, aren't sewn onto the back of your sweatshirt. Speaking of which, it was #cyclingcaptuesday and I obliged.
Almost met the back of a white van at an intersection near Sheriden Circle. I thought that the driver would be turning left, but he was continuing straight and I should have slowed down to give him enough room to get around the white van in front of him, which was turning left, but I just kept my path in the bike lane. You know what they say about assuming? It makes an ass out of you and the guy who smacks into the back of a van while riding his bicycle incautiously.
I've taken to think of the hill on which rests Massachusetts Avenue as Reverie Hill, as I use the climb to reverie (which isn't the song they play to wake up people in the Army). Today's thoughts include wondering whether or not road users have the right not to be startled. Being startled ("he came out of nowhere!") is a pretty frequent complaint from motorists, bicyclists and pedestrians and its often justification for some some sort prescription/proscription. I'm not sure that there's an implicit (or explicit) right to not be started, nor a responsibility to not startle. But Reverie Hill is only so long.
The South African Embassy is doing some construction and they're using a trash chute from Chutes International.
The Vatican Embassy has a much less prolific nativity set-up (consisting of a drapery only showing Mom, "Pop" and baby J-money over their front door) than I would have expected.
About those buttons. I've got them. I couldn't mail them today because of MEETINGS, but they can be mailed tomorrow. I can also bring them to the WABA Holiday Party as that might be more convenient for me since many of you might attend and who wants to go to the Post Office unless absolutely necessary, amiright?