At some point, late in the ride and after I had left the grocery store, I had become convinced that my rear tire was put on backwards and the tread faced in the wrong direction and this was causes me to feel wobbly. I've since checked and this is not the case. I guess the wobbliness is just something I'll have to own.
I ran into friend of the blog Adam at the bike parking at work. Adam is participating in the Best Buddies Challenge, which is either a bike event for a good cause or a hilarious new reality show on Animal Planet in which pet owners and their pets compete in wacky team challenges in order to earn prizes for both man and beast. On the off chance that it's a bike event, I've linked to his fundraising page here. If it's the other thing, I hope he has a dog and not a cockatoo because I can't imagine how useful a bird would be in a series of increasingly difficult physical and mental challenges. Though, I can't imagine how useful Ellie the Poodle would be either and that's why we'll never get cast and our audition tape will be all for naught.
Ever just ride right past the grocery store where you meant to stop? Yup.
Massachusetts to a very bumpy Wisconsin Avenue through Glover Park and Upper Georgetown or should I say Burkina Georgetown and then a left onto R Street, which really ought to have sharrows, but never will. My intention was to ride through and then get on the Rock Creek Trail at P Street, which I did. On R Street I rode behind a woman who had a bumper sticker for either a kind of jujitsu or a place where one practices jujitsu. Jujutsu was the only word I recognized. On the Rock Creek trail, I rode behind a woman on a bike who was wearing Gore bike apparel. Oh, I see your game Mr. Gore. Tell us the earth is melting so we stop driving and then gouge us with your fancy bike shorts. Well, here's an inconvenient truth for you: lycra is produced by a Koch subsidiary. Or, it could be a different Gore. "You don't own me, Koch brothers," might sing Lesley, for example.
The trail to the street to waiting at a red light by the Lincoln Memorial where I watched a Park Police officer on a motorcycle disperse a bunch of pedicab drivers, who rode away for half a block and then returned to where they were initially gathered. Of all the things in DC I don't understand, it's the antipathy to pedicabbers that I get the least. Clearly people (and by people, I mean tourists) like to take pedicabs around to see the sites. What's the big deal?
The path along the reflecting pool was awfully crowded. I rode slowly at a speed I would label "respectful."
At 17th street, I rode up behind a US Capitol Police bike patrol officer. His uniform was a navy blue jumpsuit that was more than a little reminiscent of that of a Ghostbuster. "Ray, when someone asks you if you're a US Capitol Police bike officer, say YES" I hung behind him for a while, but passed him along Jefferson and then at 7th street maybe, he caught up and shoaled me. One agency bike police officer shoaling down, a few to go. If I can get MPD, Secret Service and Park Police bike officers to do it, I might win a prize. Or buy myself a prize. Or buy myself a sheet cake and ask the guy at Safeway to write "Prize" on it in cursive.
Up the House side and then down East Capitol to Kentucky to the grocery store for a fast in-and-out trip that actually proved to be relatively fast for once. And then it was a few blocks more to home to cap off another fine evening ride.