Ride In 7/24: Scungilli

Couples who bicycle together, in my opinion, must have really strong relationships. It's really a delicate balancing act in finding mutual accommodation and comfort. This is even more true when you're biking your partner as she sits in your front basket, knees clenches and legs akimbo, leaning back so her head and his were nearly touching at the ears. I cannot imagine that this was very comfortable. I cannot imagine that this was most convenient way to travel together as a tandem. Frankly, I hope that this was a couple and not a woman who had fallen off a ladder just landed in some dude's basket as he rode by. It was odd.

Bike commuting is an olfactory experience. I like the smell of cut grass and I'd imagine really enjoying the opportunity to bike past bakeries and their wafts of freshly baked bread, though this isn't something I actually get to do. My primary olfactory sensations are those are much more negative: smoggy bus fumes, fetid standing water, eighth grade boy tourists, llamas escaped from "Brian's Llama Tours: Como se llama a fun way to DC? Brian's llama tours" (Ok, this last one isn't real. Yet). I enjoy the sensory experience of smell, even when it's not good smell. This might be because I have an inadequate sniffer. Those cursed with much better senses and sensitivity assuredly would mind a whole lot more. This is why I support mandatory nose plugs for all bike commuters.

New sandwich place opening on 11th Street.
Now I'll have somewhere to sit and read my The Epoch Times when I take a break on my morning ride.

I stopped at the intersection of 11th and R and waited to make my left turn. I waited for there to be a gap in the cars coming from the other direction. You know, for safety and such. And then a guy coming down R starts rolling through his red light towards me, perhaps looking to cut in front of me and continue straight on R as I wait to make the left turn. This move would be highly obnoxious. Break all the laws you want, but try not to be a dick about it, you know?

I saw a van that advertised its bus shelter maintenance services. I did not know there was such a market for such a niche activity. Judging by the state of our bus shelters, I can't imagine the business is very successful.

I've developed a tremendous affinity for a bike commuter that I see on many days, but I've never been able to work up the effrontery to bother her by saying hello and that I see her quite a lot and that I think it's cool that she bikes everyday on the same route across town that I take at roughly the same time. I'm sure that when I do eventually decide to strike up this conversation and then mention that I have a bike blog in which I've previously mentioned my noticing her but not ever saying anything, it sure won't seem weird at all. It's easy to develop a bike-quaintanceship with someone who rides in the other direction. You nod. He nods. Mutual recognition accomplished. It's much harder to do when you're traveling in the same direction. I guess you could say something if you pass the person, but I'd still be hesitant. I've had bicyclists say stuff to me when they've pulled around to pass and it's always sounds like "Hefasjkbskdjbgegagasv." (Along with my bad sense of smell, I can also barely hear. When I start losing my eyesight, I'll be a triple threat)

I've stopped wearing my clip-in bike shoes during my commute. I now wear a pair of slip-on shoes and no socks. I have a deep antipathy for socks in the summer. This might also be abetted by my poor sense of smell. I haven't made the full conversation to biking in sandals yet. Or barefoot. That'd be hardcore.

I rode on the Rock Creek Parkway trail this past weekend. It is terrible and unfit for bicycling, even if its unpeopled by walkers and runners and hikers. That is all.

Do embassies have public restrooms? I'm asking for a friend who sometimes might need to stop while riding up Massachusetts but never has because it's not that far away from his office anyway.


  1. All the regulars on my commute are coming toward me. The hoppy guy, the serious fitness woman, Asian overdressed man, @Grafixnerd's evil twin. I have no idea who's passing me. I don't object unless they say call me "sir" as they pass like I'm old enough to be their father, even if I am.

    As for the restroom thing, you can always pee in the bushes next to the Vatican embassy. If you get arrested, tell them you were once an altar boy before Father came along....

  2. Scungilli is a word I don't hear around these parts often. I like them with spaghetti.