Snow. It's not unheard of to have snow in March around these parts and in some ways, the fluffy white stuff is more agreeable to bike commuting than a steady cold rain. But that's like saying brussel sprouts are preferable to kale when all you really want is pizza. I want pizza. Both in the metaphorical sense where pizza is a stand-in for delightful spring weather and in the more literal sense where pizza is a delicious food and I'm writing towards dinner time.
There weren't many bike commuters about, but the usual bunch (well, as to whether they're usual or unusual, I've leave to you) were at coffee and from coffee was a trip with Rootchopper down G Street before we parted ways and he rode back into the Commonwealth and I remained steadfastly in the District. At least, I tried to remain steadfast, but more likely than not, I was steadslow. I don't have a speedometer. I remember riding up Wisco, but don't remember much in the way of details. I remember riding down Massachusetts and screaming 'GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" as the snowflakes, no longer fluffy but somehow prickly instead, snuck under the brim on my cap and over the top of my coat, to find landing places on my bare face. I wanted to look down, so as to create a less accommodating angle and deny the snow prickers their prey, but in so doing I would've taken my eyes off the road in front of me and generally speaking, one ought not do that. That is, one ought not do that if he doesn't wish to ride into the back of a parked car. Which I didn't want to do, having already done that once on a very cold day in a previous winter along the same stretch of road. Snow. I'm over it.
The way home saw me riding through Glover Park and Georgetown (and Burleith. I didn't forget you, Burleith.) and down to M Street and over to L Street and eventually down to 15th. I really wish the transition from Pennsylvania to L was a bit easier for bicyclists, but it's pretty much just a matter of getting over into one of the left lanes, which would be fine if you didn't have to cross two or three travel lanes from the right side in order to do it. This is why I normally do some kind of maneuver that involves waiting for the light to change red and making a left turn in the crosswalk, but it's suboptimal and also maybe sometimes I don't always wait for the light to 'technically' turn red and end up doing something wonky that might involve riding on the wrong side of the street towards oncoming traffic. Admittedly, this is bad. I don't worry so much about it from a safety perspective (it's pretty predictable and the sight lines are pretty good), but it's a pretty egregious bit of lawbreaking on my part and sometimes I feel pangs of guilt, not so much about the lawbreaking as the egregiousness. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there should be a bike flyover ramp over Washington Circle, so I could be spared on making this left turn. Put it out to bid, pay the $50 million. That's the only practical solution.
I don't really remember any details about the rest of the way home, except for its lack of flyover ramps. It might have been cold. I believe I was wearing a gray sweater. I remember being in a bit of rush, for all the good that ever does. You barely even notice getting home two minutes earlier and you can easily make up for the time if you get home two minutes later. What are two minutes? Barely no time at all.