I got stuck behind a man today who refused to take his turn at a flashing red light. He was on a folding bike and I suppose I can understand his trepidation, but driver after driver tired to wave him on and he demured, but cyclists behind us rode through and we just both waited. He waited because that's what he felt was necessary to do, probably because of safety (or perhaps a misunderstanding of the law) and I waited because I will, in virtually every case, defer to the judgment of the cyclist in front of me, even when he's wrong. A man must have a code, and all that. Eventually he went and I went and the past was history, as the past tends to be. Anyway, my general advice at flashing red lights is to turn turns, but with care. That's my story.
I've been riding on paths more lately and there's a certain kind of path user who travels down the center of the path, and not on the right side as is customary. This person is the Marcia Brady if path users. I am Jan. Some other people are Greg, Peter, Bobby and Cindy and you [yes, you!] are Alice. In conclusion, maybe don't travel down the center of the path?
School's back and the crossing guards are back. That we need them isn't great, but they they're there is.
Massachuseets Avenue, which I take on the ride home, has been dug up for utility work lately and there are some rather "fun" divots every so often. A smaller tired bike might not fare as well.
L Street to 15th and then Pennsylvania, where a driver told me she liked my shirt, which is a pocketed Road a Holland bike jersey. I also enjoy its pockets. I keep things in there, like a mama koala. Along with my keys and phone, it's also where I keep my mama koala similes. Ample room in there, like in a kangaroo pouch.