Ride In 7/6: Seed at the Feed Store

I've been in the process of trying to change up my bike for a while and like all good processes (I'm looking at you Krebs Cycle, which I just learned is technically the Szent-Gyorgi-Krebs cycle. Magyar got shafted, yo), this process has taken time and considerable forethought and numerous interventions from outside forces, namely bicycle shops. To the best of my understanding of the Szent-Gyorgi Cycle (see what I did there?), bicycle shop mechanics are not strictly necessary in the metabolic process, but they help. So, step one was to get new fenders and have those installed. And step two was to get new tires and try to put those on myself, which is theoretically something I can do. So I labored and did that and the new tires, which are bigger than the old tires, scraped the new fenders, which needed to be adjusted, which is not something I felt capable of undertaking myself. I didn't realize, however, the extent of the scraping until I had already left for work. I knew it was bad, but I didn't know it was that bad. I resolved to ride to #fridaycoffeeclub on mostly deflated tires and then bring my bike to BicycleSpace when it opened around ten. So that's what I did.

Here's what a tire scraping on a fender sounds like: [imagine the sound of rubber scraping on metal, about once a second]

Got honked at by a driver who just had to turn right on red and I just happened to be in his way. At least he didn't run me over. Whenever a driver honks, irrespective of whether I indulge him by moving (which I tend to do because it's not that big of a burden, especially when I'm stopped a red light anyway and life is too short to needlessly troll), I always turn around first as if to give a look like "What? Huh?" even though I know exactly why I'm being honked at. I don't know why I do this. Perhaps it has something to do with wanting to be acknowledged or perhaps it has something to do with wanting the driver to acknowledge that I'm a person and I'm doing something nice for him, when I could instead just ignore him.

Rode down Pennsylvania to 15th and up 15th across the White House Plaza. It's crowded. It always seems to be crowded. There were some maintenance guys fixing one of the fountains out front. On one hand, cool, you're working at the White House. But on the other hand, you're still outside in 90 degrees trying to make a superfluous water feature work.

A good crowd at Swings. We continue to meet inside. I drank iced coffee. I shared my tale of woe (about my fenders, not a humorous anecdote about meeting Joey Lawrence at LAX- which is not something that actually happened to me, but seems vaguely plausible so if I didn't reveal that it was a falsehood, you probably wouldn't know and then I'd have a mostly lame, entirely fictitious dinner party story about a celebrity encounter, just in case) to much sympathy and then it was about 9:15 and time to go. Since BicycleSpace didn't open until 10, I instead rode with Lauren (on her last #fridaycoffeeclub) to get a waffle at a secret waffle shop in an alley. A back-alley waffle shop seems like it should be the focal point in a New York Times story about DC gentrification. We rode the New York Avenue Bike Lanes to Mount Vernon Square (the insult George Washington hurled at his nerdy younger brother), up 9th street, down M on the sidewalk for 20 feet and then up the alley another 50 feet. The waffle was quite good. I'm only realizing now that I had eaten pancakes for breakfast. If I have crepes for lunch, I hit the for the cycle.

The waffle shop isn't far from the bike shop and I foisted my problem onto the very apt mechanics, who were able to adjust my fenders (which are "finicky") after no small amount of consternation. I think I had a team of three working on my problem. They're fixed now and the bike rides wonderfully. Thanks, BicycleSpace!

In to leather? Trouser straps, that is. Collect them all.

A trouser strap for every occasion. 

Pretty standard ride to work afterwards. Up 7th to R, down R to Mass, up Mass to work. Very few bicyclists out, but it was well past commuting time, so that's unsurprising. Still a lot of cars out. Where is everyone driving at midday? To sandwiches? If it's for any other reason, I don't get it.

Some trees still down along Massachusetts. How soon until woodland creatures make a home in them? Or worse, elves? Good luck getting your cookie license from DCRA.

1 comment:

  1. Wouldn't it be more civil if instead of just horns cars were equipped with other communications options? "Thanks" "Hi" "Would you please move so I can turn?" "Doors opening. Step Back." We could even keep some oldies like "Toot Toot", "Beep", and "HONK"