Ride Home 6/27: Gong with the Wind

Ain't no party like a repaving party cause a repaving party don't stop...rattling your bike and bouncing you around and hurting your wrists and being generally jarring and unpleasant. Though soon enough, I suppose, there will be some nice fresh new pavement and my ride will be that much smoother and I'll be ever so happy. You know, for like three blocks and around one traffic circle. Totes worth it.

Regular route home. A little slow on Massachusetts because I got stuck behind a red Toyota Matrix being driven about 15 miles per hour. Get off the road, slowpoke! Just kidding, though being stuck behind a car driving considerably below the speed limit does leave me with some trepidation, mostly from anxiety about the impatient drivers approaching from behind me. At California Avenue, I passed him when he was stopped at a red light. I might have technically shoaled him. Whoops.

There should be more (any, really) roadside milkshake stands. I'm pretty much always in the mood for a milkshake, especially while riding home. But then again, this would probably ruin my dinner of milkshakes and malt balls and my habitual milkshake cordial before bed.

Ok, since it's Washington and this is apparently a thing people do here for amusement, here's my healthcare prediction: 5-4 to uphold, Roberts is deciding vote, writes the opinion. He does this not necessarily because he wants the law upheld politically, but because he needs to keep the veneer of judicial legitimacy so the Supreme Court (the institution) is considered a partisan joke for the rest of forever. My qualifications for this opinion? Inside information. In that I look inside the Supreme Court's windows when I pass it on my commute twice daily.

I took Q to 15th, for a rare southbound cycle track trip (Southbound Cycle Track Trip is lesser known Allen Ginsberg work) and it was crowded and slow and there were many red lights and no opportunities to jaywheel. I watched a number of cyclists "blow through" them coming in the other direction, ill-advisedly in my opinion. I used my time waiting at the intersections to admire the "Bikes must yield to peds" signs and looking for the "Cars must yield to peds" signs, but I didn't see any of those. Guess drivers don't need the reminder. They have licenses after all. Like James Bond. (This might be a little sadder and truer than I want it to be)

There was a guy riding behind me for most of 15th and he didn't attempt to pass me in order to wait at the red lights in front of me rather than behind and I appreciated that. He was taking to another cyclist and I didn't know if they knew each other or if they met along the way. A stranger's just a friend you haven't met, so goes the lyrics in that fake musical from that cartoon.

Overzealousitis is a disease that occasionally strikes White House security. I was told to "bike on the other side if the street," though I was pretty sure I was already on the other side of the street and I'm pretty sure he didn't want me on his side of the street, if for no other reason than there probably would have been a less riddle-like way if expressing that sentiment. Unless it was all a trick.

Bollardia is a small town in Italy from where DDOT imports all of its hand-crafted, artisanal bollards. The citizens if Bollardia recently had their bollard harvest (a process that involves some kind of extrusion) and Washington DC us now reaping the benefits. My photo essay.

No bollards at Penn and 15th. Womp womp. On the south side of the bike lane. You can almost see what I'm talking about. Next boat from Bollardia tomorrow?

Sleepy bollards at 14th. My next button drive will raise money to combat bollard narcolepsy. Together we can beat it! If these bollards were, in fact, put back in the ground today, then I move we immediately cancel all driving in DC.

Variation in bollard color. The one in front was a radiant white, indicating its newness.

Some bollards wear different shoes. Bollards can only wear white shoes after Memorial Day. Bollards wear black shoes for more formal events, like bollard prom, which is, coincidentally, before Memorial Day.

One city.

Ocean explorer Bob Ballard.

Pipe. For storming the sandbag barricades.

DDOT moved those bollards over today. Huzzah. That's one small foot for bicyclists, one giant leap for bicyclist kind. Whatever that means.

And now from bollards to collards.

I didn't take any. 

Eventually I'll make my way to Lollards. That's all for now. I promise no bollard talk tomorrow.