Rides 3/23: Shillelagh at the Donnybrook

Moths. They can eat your winter clothes. So, really, when you think about it, it's just great that the winter weather persists, as does having to keep wearing heavy wool well into March. It keeps away the moths. How's that for some positive spin? Unconvincing? Yes, I thought so too.

I spent a goodly time this past weekend cleaning the Ogre, thereby freeing it from the salt, dirt, gunk and grime that clung to its parts. Some of the parts so freed are the parts on the bike that move and in so moving, help give the bike its movement. That these parts are now clean plays no small part in the bike's better functioning overall. Cleanliness is next to go-liness. Some people are quite good at keeping their bikes clean, and therefore go-ly, but I lack such persuasion, convincing myself instead that a thin coating of dirt dissuades thieves and/or Tusken Raiders from absconding with my steed. Also, I am dreadfully lazy. And a bit hydrophobic. Perhaps it is I who is the Tusken Raider.

I took advantage of the bicycle's improved performance by taking a route that afforded a greater amount of open road and steady pedaling, which is to say, having a few blocks without a stop light. I pedaled away. I pedaled and pedaled and pedaled. And a man on a hybrid bike pedaled right past me, as if to express his disapproval is my earlier having pedaled past him. Or maybe he just liked pedaling even more than I did.

I met up with the Official Wife at 23rd and E, having to make an exchange of something she left at home for a toasted coconut donut. Quid pro donut. I suppose quid pro cronut would have also been acceptable.

Thereafter, it was the usual way to work. There were some inconsiderate people on bikes, on foot and driving cars. There were also some considerate ones. On the way home, there was also a mix of considerate and inconsiderate people and others among them who were neither considerate nor inconsiderate, but somehow on the cusp of both. A lot of it is situational, but it also comes down to decisions. There are always choices. And it's people who make them. Like the bicyclist who rode through the red light, only to stop before the crosswalk and the other bicyclist, who instead of just riding in front of her, rode behind her and then said something, maybe in response to something she said, but maybe not, to the effect of 'well, you ran the red light' and then she definitely said something in response, though I didn't hear it and they might have jabbered still, but I missed all that too because who has time to stop and listen to strangers argue. Other than me normally because I'm quite nosy and conflagrations, no matter how petty, pierce the mundane. It's really quite early in the season for bike commuters to be jabbering at each other over infractions both real and imagined, so I suppose you could say that #bikeDC is really performing above average. Or you could say that maybe everyone should just relax a little and be a little less willing to engage in pointless bickering. EVEN WHEN SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING WRONG. Like, even then. Even when you see someone do something really obviously wrong and bad, shrugging away a minor inconvenience is really expurgative (might not be a word) and maybe even good for the soul. He who rides a glass bike shouldn't throw stones and all that. And if you do ride a glass bike, that sounds fucking sweet.

Bikeshare riders asking for directions. I don't mind, but maybe that means we need more signs.

When I got out of the grocery store, I saw Will, who was with his son, Martin. Will had previously inquired about the Ogre, he needing to replace a bike that was damaged, and I had meant to meet up with him to let him take it for a ride, but failed in this, and so Martin and I stood together on the sidewalk as Will tooled around the Safeway parking lot, putting the Ogre through the paces one puts a bike through when test riding it in a grocery store parking lot. We will, Will and I, but maybe not Martin, who is quite young, get a beer some time. We will in spring.

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