I have a summer routine for leaving work that involves sunscreen and sunglasses and little questioning as to whether both or either of those will be necessary (I also have a winter routine that involves cutting open a tauntaun, but that's a different story). I didn't know that rain might be (literally) on the horizon and upon riding out of the garage, I found my sunglasses to be abundantly unnecessary and needlessly gloom-inducing. I can see gloom just fine and hardly need optical enhancements, so I pulled them off and threw them in my back pocket. I like the back pocket of a standard bicycle jersey for precisely this kind of thing (which has happened exactly once), but more to use to carry my phone and keys rather than having to stow them in my bag. Much can be said about the merits and demerits of bicycle specific clothing, but I figure if I'm going to change for work, I might as well wear a shirt that has a pocket in which I can keep the things I prefer to have on my person. Somewhere (Denmark?) a Dane is reading this and crying.
I realized that bicyclists and drivers pretty much approach stop signs same the same way. We both pump on the brakes before the sign to slow down to a crawl, crawl up to the sign (and past it), look both ways and then start towards full speed again. I think that I previously wrote that I'd never write about stop signs again, so I'm sorry.
Tips for beating the rain: hope it doesn't rain before you get where you're going. You can go fast, but if Zeus wants it to rain, it's gonna rain. No use stressing over it. Its just rain.
I was the fourth cyclist in a line of cyclist crossing the Key Bridge. That was sort of cool. No one in front of me had a bell though (or opted to find) and I elected to follow suit and not to ding either (since we were sort of spread out, there was no obvious ding envelope), so that's the deleterious effect of peer pressure for you.
Coincidentally timed my trip home to coincide with my wife's stepping out of her office on Wilson to wait for the bus home. That was nice. I heartily encourage all of you to arrange your routes home/place of spouse's employment so that you can see a loved one about halfway through your ride home. Ideally this won't involve you having to take a many mile detour or forcing your spouse to work at a place that involves a considerable skills mismatch. Also, you should rearrange your route home so that you pass a delicious burger joint and the associated wafting smells of grilled meat.
Behind another biker from roughly the Whole Foods through the intersection of Fairfax and 10th. At a stop light, he turned around and asked me if I wanted to go in front because I looked "like I wanted to go faster." I said that I didn't want to, until I changed my mind and then wanted to, but I waited until there was an appropriate amount of space for a non-aggressive-seeming pass. I think this kind of nicety is worthwhile.
Sometimes bicyclists are viewed as Zabka-esque jerks, immoral alpha-male fitness yahoos, and sometimes I contribute to this view by doing things that I later regret, such as sitting up on my saddle, holding my left hand out to the side in a frustrated WTF semi-shrug and saying "come on" as I cycled past some inconveniently jaywalking pedestrians, one of whom was wearing a Boston Red Sox shirt that was far too tight around his midsection. Was I in the right? Sure. Did they completely misunderestimate my speed and make a poor, lawbreaking decision to cross the path of oncoming traffic when there really wasn't ample room or time to do so? Yes. But am I doing anyone a favor by being a selfish jerk? Probably not. Is this inconsistent with anyone else's selfish jerky behavior? Not really. But it conforms to the pre-existing belief that people on bikes are assholes and it's stupid of me not to exhibit a bit more self-control and patience. I don't think that cyclists need to be better or more moral or more law-abiding than everyone else- I just think that, as a personal maxim, I should try not to be a jerk to people, even when I'm "in the right" because ultimately that doesn't do anything except lead me to write long, semi-apologetic, preening blog posts that serve neither to inform or entertain. And what fun is that?
I beat the rain, so, all things considered, I'm pretty happy.
6/14/11
Ride In 6/14
As is my usual Flag Day tradition, I, um, mostly forgot that it was Flag Day until being reminded of it by someone considerably more patriotic/holiday-oriented/flagphilic than me. That this reminder came in retweet form on Twitter might speak to the relative importance of this holiday in our continued national dialogue concerning whether or not our country should continued to be represented by stars and stripes or whether we should adopt some more contemporary symbols (lewd pictures of our elected representatives?) to sew onto fabric. Note to readers: this conversation is not actually happening.
I like to take at least one 'ride in' during the week and try out a route that's different from my regular route. Not because I think that there's a better or faster way in (I've got that covered- that's what riding in the winter is for), but instead for the purposes breaking some of the monotony that accompanies riding on the same streets at roughly the same time every weekday. I think that this is a good habit to get into- it makes the rides seem like less of a chore (which they are. A fun chore, but a chore nonetheless) and more like "epic" adventures.
The problem is, though, that there's only a limited number of routes one can take between home and work that tread new ground. If only I lived on a houseboat or worked in a food truck...
I rode Wilson/Clarendon the whole way through Rosslyn down to Lynn Street. From roughly the Clarendon Metro station to the Rosslyn Metro station, I rode behind a guy wearing shiny basketball shorts and brown Adidas shoes. One can only make so many observations about someone while riding on a bicycle behind him, but I can make some assertions that are totally ungrounded in reality. His name was probably Brad. He played lacrosse in high school and played intramural flag football at college, probably a larger state school on the east coast. He recently got a hair cut, so that means he works for some contractor or perhaps a financial institution, though not a bank. He doesn't have a serious girlfriend (but dates casually, but not really) and hasn't since he moved to DC 3 years ago and he's sort of hoping that his college girlfriend Lauren doesn't end up marrying that guy she's engaged to [announced on Facebook 4 months ago] because it would be sort of nice if they got back together. He rides his bike into work to stay in shape, but only on nice days and he would get a new bike and probably overpay for too much bike if he was oversold one. Do I create elaborate and utterly fictitious backstories for everyone I see on the road? Let's just not answer that.
I went over the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Bridge past Theodore RooseveltMemorial Island which I believe should be populated by hippopotami, rhinoceri, elephanti, and other large jungle animals in an homage to TR's famous post-presidency safari. This might displace some of the more mundane local fauna, but it would make vastly more interesting the park ranger guided walking tour. In spite of its overall decrepitude, I enjoy riding over the TR Bridge, but only when no one is coming in the other direction (it's narrow). On the path of the other side of the bridge, I was distracted by some trucks in the Kennedy Center parking lot (I was trying to figure out to what performance/troupe they belonged) , when a suited man on a CaBi said "heads up" as he rode towards me. I said "thanks" or "sorry"- I can't remember- thinking at the time that whatever I said was sufficient, but realizing now that thanks and sorry express two entirely different ideas. One probably shouldn't say "thanks" when someone asks you to move from the center of the path. That seems a bit dickish. Sorry suit guy.
Before I left home, my plan was to ride up 22nd Street to Massachusetts and then to work. This remained my plan and I rode up New Hampshire from Virginia Avenue to Washington Circle. I don't think that there's a more terrible circle for bicyclists than Washington Circle. It's very difficult to manage and in trying to get to 22nd street, I ended up moving from the far right lane (turn only), to behind a row of stopped cars waiting to get onto K, to back into the circle, to behind a row of stopped cars waiting to turn onto New Hampshire, to getting out of the circle facing the wrong way down one-directional 23rd street. I did this with concern, though I can't say I did it with the utmost caution. One of the joys of taking a new route is finding out exciting new things- like that 22nd street doesn't radiate from Washington Circle. Hilarious! I walked my bike on the sidewalk behind a really tall guy with a lumbering gait and a female Asian tourist who was yelled at by a shuttle bus driver for stepping into the street prior to the walk signal at the confluence of New Hampshire, 22nd and L street. I don't think enough scorn is heaped on L'Enfant for leaving us a city that proves itself in far too many cases hostile to those trying to cross the street(s). Though I guess he didn't foresee the automobile or the erratic, angry driving of shuttle bus operators.
22nd Street is a great street to bike if you like to interact with taxi cabs, tour buses,rickshaws, large groups of high school students, jitneys, private cars, hired cars, bell hops, Metro buses, airport shuttles, and black Lincolns with diplomatic plates. If you're looking for a sedate avenue that isn't used as the primary northbound thoroughfare out of Foggy Bottom, than I would suggest another route.
Massachusetts Avenue was its usual lonely slog. I rode in the street for some, on the sidewalk for some and then back in the street. I would have stayed in the street the whole time to prove a point (?) about sharing the road, but then a taxi in front of me pulled over to pick up a fare and I ditched to the sidewalk, which is almost always underpeopled, at least from crossing over Rock Creek to about 34th Street. I'm not a very principled bike advocate in that I almost always choose the path of least resistance rather than assert my rights and exclusively ride in the street with drivers because the law says that I can. The way I see it, I'm just trying to get to work and whatever gets me there the fastest and with the least chance of my being inconvenienced works best.
The best part of riding up Mass is the view. I like looking at the embassies, including the weird (unoccupied still) glass box that belongs to the Brasilians and the weird (LEED certified) glass box that belongs to the Finns. I also like the sculptures, from the disembodied head of Khalil Gibran being attacked by birds to the Princess Martha hailing a cab in front of the Norwegian embassy.
Ward Circle is a mess, too. I don't think I've even ridden through there without observing a driver totally screw it up and try to turn from somewhere they shouldn't. It's not that hard to follow instructions and yet here we are. I think simplification (get rid of the circle and make it a simple intersection) would vastly improve traffic flow in the area. But, then we'd have to move the Artemas Ward statue and you know that such a slight would never be abided by local curmudgeons of the fife and drum corp variety. Ship it to Shrewsbury, I say.
I like to take at least one 'ride in' during the week and try out a route that's different from my regular route. Not because I think that there's a better or faster way in (I've got that covered- that's what riding in the winter is for), but instead for the purposes breaking some of the monotony that accompanies riding on the same streets at roughly the same time every weekday. I think that this is a good habit to get into- it makes the rides seem like less of a chore (which they are. A fun chore, but a chore nonetheless) and more like "epic" adventures.
The problem is, though, that there's only a limited number of routes one can take between home and work that tread new ground. If only I lived on a houseboat or worked in a food truck...
I rode Wilson/Clarendon the whole way through Rosslyn down to Lynn Street. From roughly the Clarendon Metro station to the Rosslyn Metro station, I rode behind a guy wearing shiny basketball shorts and brown Adidas shoes. One can only make so many observations about someone while riding on a bicycle behind him, but I can make some assertions that are totally ungrounded in reality. His name was probably Brad. He played lacrosse in high school and played intramural flag football at college, probably a larger state school on the east coast. He recently got a hair cut, so that means he works for some contractor or perhaps a financial institution, though not a bank. He doesn't have a serious girlfriend (but dates casually, but not really) and hasn't since he moved to DC 3 years ago and he's sort of hoping that his college girlfriend Lauren doesn't end up marrying that guy she's engaged to [announced on Facebook 4 months ago] because it would be sort of nice if they got back together. He rides his bike into work to stay in shape, but only on nice days and he would get a new bike and probably overpay for too much bike if he was oversold one. Do I create elaborate and utterly fictitious backstories for everyone I see on the road? Let's just not answer that.
I went over the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Bridge past Theodore Roosevelt
Before I left home, my plan was to ride up 22nd Street to Massachusetts and then to work. This remained my plan and I rode up New Hampshire from Virginia Avenue to Washington Circle. I don't think that there's a more terrible circle for bicyclists than Washington Circle. It's very difficult to manage and in trying to get to 22nd street, I ended up moving from the far right lane (turn only), to behind a row of stopped cars waiting to get onto K, to back into the circle, to behind a row of stopped cars waiting to turn onto New Hampshire, to getting out of the circle facing the wrong way down one-directional 23rd street. I did this with concern, though I can't say I did it with the utmost caution. One of the joys of taking a new route is finding out exciting new things- like that 22nd street doesn't radiate from Washington Circle. Hilarious! I walked my bike on the sidewalk behind a really tall guy with a lumbering gait and a female Asian tourist who was yelled at by a shuttle bus driver for stepping into the street prior to the walk signal at the confluence of New Hampshire, 22nd and L street. I don't think enough scorn is heaped on L'Enfant for leaving us a city that proves itself in far too many cases hostile to those trying to cross the street(s). Though I guess he didn't foresee the automobile or the erratic, angry driving of shuttle bus operators.
22nd Street is a great street to bike if you like to interact with taxi cabs, tour buses,
Massachusetts Avenue was its usual lonely slog. I rode in the street for some, on the sidewalk for some and then back in the street. I would have stayed in the street the whole time to prove a point (?) about sharing the road, but then a taxi in front of me pulled over to pick up a fare and I ditched to the sidewalk, which is almost always underpeopled, at least from crossing over Rock Creek to about 34th Street. I'm not a very principled bike advocate in that I almost always choose the path of least resistance rather than assert my rights and exclusively ride in the street with drivers because the law says that I can. The way I see it, I'm just trying to get to work and whatever gets me there the fastest and with the least chance of my being inconvenienced works best.
The best part of riding up Mass is the view. I like looking at the embassies, including the weird (unoccupied still) glass box that belongs to the Brasilians and the weird (LEED certified) glass box that belongs to the Finns. I also like the sculptures, from the disembodied head of Khalil Gibran being attacked by birds to the Princess Martha hailing a cab in front of the Norwegian embassy.
Ward Circle is a mess, too. I don't think I've even ridden through there without observing a driver totally screw it up and try to turn from somewhere they shouldn't. It's not that hard to follow instructions and yet here we are. I think simplification (get rid of the circle and make it a simple intersection) would vastly improve traffic flow in the area. But, then we'd have to move the Artemas Ward statue and you know that such a slight would never be abided by local curmudgeons of the fife and drum corp variety. Ship it to Shrewsbury, I say.
6/13/11
Ride Home 6/13
Not in a great mood tonight and wasn't in a great mood leaving work. Nothing in particular. I struggled with my combination lock (I thought I knew the combination, but maybe I only know it +/- 1 of the actual combination and it's very frustrating when I need multiple [read: 8] attempts to get my stupid lock open) and that didn't make anything better. I just didn't care to ride my normal route home and I didn't feel like going a different way, so I just felt sort of stuck. Like a car commuter.
The ride itself wasn't terrible and thus discordant with my initial mood. I cheered up after a while, so I guess it's nothing like being a car commuter, by which you get increasingly miserable the deeper you're into your trip. By the time I was home, I was pretty much fine. Victory for bicycles.
I thought I saw a Buddhist monk but it was just a woman in an unfortunate dress. I rode behind a woman on a CaBi who had wore bows in her hair that looked like flowers. She had on the kinds of jeans a Russian might wear. Later in the ride, I was behind a guy wearing a giant backpack and he must have been carrying everything he owned. I passed a lot of people who were carrying a pair of sneakers, but were wearing flip flops. I found this odd. I saw a puppy in Volta Park who had "puppy energy" but was totally huge and the owner looked outmatched. Get used to it.
As is my habit, I rode down the sidewalk on 34th street rather than wait in traffic in order to make the right turn on M. I was behind a Georgetown mother-daughter pair and I was patiently waiting with no intention of passing them. Nonetheless, I was espied by the daughter and rather than just nod or acknowledge or do something a mature person who do, I literally looked away and began to whistle. Smooth. Very Loony Tunes. The daughter nonetheless moved over and I rode around, realizing by that point that I should flee and hope they never see me again. Social graces: don't got em.
There's an exciting new trend in jogging, whereby the runner reaches the end of the bridge and turns around suddenly and without warning. I thought that she had dropped some money or something and when she continued to run past what I surmised (incorrectly) was a dollar bill, I thought that bike commuting was really paying out.
What would it be like if the Sartorialist only took pictures of bicyclists and only did so with an iPhone and no zoom for 30 yards away? Maybe something like this:
This guy had a cool bike and leather bar tape and a nice Brooks. Yes, there's actually a cyclist there. I like this picture a lot, not because it achieved its intended purpose, but because I think it accurately captures the vibe (sadness, isolation) of outer Rosslyn. Does that sound like a lame justification for posting a vastly inferior photo? Sure.
The ride itself wasn't terrible and thus discordant with my initial mood. I cheered up after a while, so I guess it's nothing like being a car commuter, by which you get increasingly miserable the deeper you're into your trip. By the time I was home, I was pretty much fine. Victory for bicycles.
I thought I saw a Buddhist monk but it was just a woman in an unfortunate dress. I rode behind a woman on a CaBi who had wore bows in her hair that looked like flowers. She had on the kinds of jeans a Russian might wear. Later in the ride, I was behind a guy wearing a giant backpack and he must have been carrying everything he owned. I passed a lot of people who were carrying a pair of sneakers, but were wearing flip flops. I found this odd. I saw a puppy in Volta Park who had "puppy energy" but was totally huge and the owner looked outmatched. Get used to it.
As is my habit, I rode down the sidewalk on 34th street rather than wait in traffic in order to make the right turn on M. I was behind a Georgetown mother-daughter pair and I was patiently waiting with no intention of passing them. Nonetheless, I was espied by the daughter and rather than just nod or acknowledge or do something a mature person who do, I literally looked away and began to whistle. Smooth. Very Loony Tunes. The daughter nonetheless moved over and I rode around, realizing by that point that I should flee and hope they never see me again. Social graces: don't got em.
There's an exciting new trend in jogging, whereby the runner reaches the end of the bridge and turns around suddenly and without warning. I thought that she had dropped some money or something and when she continued to run past what I surmised (incorrectly) was a dollar bill, I thought that bike commuting was really paying out.
What would it be like if the Sartorialist only took pictures of bicyclists and only did so with an iPhone and no zoom for 30 yards away? Maybe something like this:
This guy had a cool bike and leather bar tape and a nice Brooks. Yes, there's actually a cyclist there. I like this picture a lot, not because it achieved its intended purpose, but because I think it accurately captures the vibe (sadness, isolation) of outer Rosslyn. Does that sound like a lame justification for posting a vastly inferior photo? Sure.
Ride In 6/13
I was lucky enough to ride a bicycle to work this morning and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Brisk mornings like this are certainly anomalous in the summer hellscape that is Washington (I'm only talking about the weather, not the interns) and it reminded me of when I was a summer camp counselor in high school and we would have to drag the kids to the beach (on a man-made lake in Connecticut, so we're not exactly talking posh) and it was cool enough in the morning to wear a hoodie over your regulation t-shirt "uniform" and the last thing you would ever want to do is set foot in the murky, brownish, opaque water surrounded by screaming 9 year olds. Good times that. The weather might have evoked the memory, but, luckily, not the same sentiment.
I didn't know how well I would feel on the bike this morning on account of my weekend activities, which included both crashing in a hubristic attempt to carry too much coffee and donuts on a bicycle and a totally unrelated "wine tasting" last night which paired the finest of the cheapest wines of Trader Joe's with the finest offerings of the local McDonalds (It was inspired by this and my favorite food blog covered our sampling here).
With regard to my crash, I'll say the following: don't try to do stupid shit like carry a large iced coffee in your left hand while you're also trying to operate a bicycle. I went over a speed bump, began to spill the other iced coffee from my cup holder, went to intervene (note: gravity not something you can impede), lost my balance and began listing right and, for some reason, didn't use my free to hand to pull the brakes. I went down on my right side, scraping my left ankle, bruising my right knee and upper thigh and bruising my ribs. My "never use my hands to brace myself when falling" strategy worked in that I didn't hurt my hands, but the extent to which this strategy can be described as effective is debatable. I spilled both coffees, but my donuts remained cargo netted in place on my rear rack. So, that's good, right? Damage to the bike included my front wheel skewer (since replaced) and my newly installed right-side cork grip (not replaced. Looks bootleg/hardcore, with bootleg and hardcore being terms not mutually exclusive and with a certain amount of overlap).Otherwise, the bike and I are both ok. It was a stupid thing to attempt and I'm glad that the universe found an expeditious and effective way to alert me of that without being overly severe.Utility cycling is a wonderful thing and something I really believe in- just make sure you have to right equipment and wherewithal before deciding that the answer to every single transportation need is "just use a bicycle." I tried to do too much and I paid the (not especially steep, but still embarrassing) price. The Official Wife came and picked me (and the bicycle) up (which we learned could fit in the trunk of the car, so that's good) and I thank her very much. And yes, I also thanked her verbally at the time and I'm not a weirdo who communicates to his wife only via his blog. Not with everything, at least. (Do we have milk? Email me)
I rode the Custis Trail this morning because that seemed more in keeping with the weather. Light bicycle traffic, a bunch of morning zombie joggers and nothing especially out of the ordinary. I'm a complete hypocrite about trail riding since apparently I like it sometimes, in spite of it being boring. I don't like how narrow the trail can feel, especially when passing another bicyclist. Unlike a road, where you can pull out into the travel lane, you can only give a few feet of clearance and then you're riding in the oncoming trail lane. Not ideal, but I guess it's just something to get over.
Biking up 35th Street to Potomac Street makes for direct travel, but I don't think it's very convenient for other road users. There's a three way stop (road traffic on 35th is supposed to be one way between Potomac and M) and because no cars drive up the cobbled stretch of 35th, the drivers are rarely looking for a bicyclist to roll up from that direction. Normally, I diagonally cut across Potomac from the west-side sidewalk to the right travel lane of 35th, but today there were cars stopped on 35th to make left turns and I stuck to the west-side sidewalk and biked in front of LXR. I should have just been more patient and waited to cross the street because I hate biking on the sidewalks in Georgetown. I don't recommend it. For more of my mundane recommendations, tune in tomorrow or read anything I've ever written.
Illegally parked cars! There's a loading zone by the Starbucks on New Mexico that has a no parking/stopping/idling sign but it must have a caveat written in really small letters that says you can do it if you really need coffee. I mean, it must because I can't believe that so many drivers would carelessly disregard the law (something only bicyclists do). Enforcing this would be a great money-maker for the MPD since I'm pretty sure if you can afford a Mercedes convertible, you can afford a parking ticket. Maybe the parking enforcement could be carried out by officers on bicycles for especially sweet justice.
I got to work with no sweat on my brow. That's a wonderful feeling.
I didn't know how well I would feel on the bike this morning on account of my weekend activities, which included both crashing in a hubristic attempt to carry too much coffee and donuts on a bicycle and a totally unrelated "wine tasting" last night which paired the finest of the cheapest wines of Trader Joe's with the finest offerings of the local McDonalds (It was inspired by this and my favorite food blog covered our sampling here).
With regard to my crash, I'll say the following: don't try to do stupid shit like carry a large iced coffee in your left hand while you're also trying to operate a bicycle. I went over a speed bump, began to spill the other iced coffee from my cup holder, went to intervene (note: gravity not something you can impede), lost my balance and began listing right and, for some reason, didn't use my free to hand to pull the brakes. I went down on my right side, scraping my left ankle, bruising my right knee and upper thigh and bruising my ribs. My "never use my hands to brace myself when falling" strategy worked in that I didn't hurt my hands, but the extent to which this strategy can be described as effective is debatable. I spilled both coffees, but my donuts remained cargo netted in place on my rear rack. So, that's good, right? Damage to the bike included my front wheel skewer (since replaced) and my newly installed right-side cork grip (not replaced. Looks bootleg/hardcore, with bootleg and hardcore being terms not mutually exclusive and with a certain amount of overlap).Otherwise, the bike and I are both ok. It was a stupid thing to attempt and I'm glad that the universe found an expeditious and effective way to alert me of that without being overly severe.Utility cycling is a wonderful thing and something I really believe in- just make sure you have to right equipment and wherewithal before deciding that the answer to every single transportation need is "just use a bicycle." I tried to do too much and I paid the (not especially steep, but still embarrassing) price. The Official Wife came and picked me (and the bicycle) up (which we learned could fit in the trunk of the car, so that's good) and I thank her very much. And yes, I also thanked her verbally at the time and I'm not a weirdo who communicates to his wife only via his blog. Not with everything, at least. (Do we have milk? Email me)
I rode the Custis Trail this morning because that seemed more in keeping with the weather. Light bicycle traffic, a bunch of morning zombie joggers and nothing especially out of the ordinary. I'm a complete hypocrite about trail riding since apparently I like it sometimes, in spite of it being boring. I don't like how narrow the trail can feel, especially when passing another bicyclist. Unlike a road, where you can pull out into the travel lane, you can only give a few feet of clearance and then you're riding in the oncoming trail lane. Not ideal, but I guess it's just something to get over.
Biking up 35th Street to Potomac Street makes for direct travel, but I don't think it's very convenient for other road users. There's a three way stop (road traffic on 35th is supposed to be one way between Potomac and M) and because no cars drive up the cobbled stretch of 35th, the drivers are rarely looking for a bicyclist to roll up from that direction. Normally, I diagonally cut across Potomac from the west-side sidewalk to the right travel lane of 35th, but today there were cars stopped on 35th to make left turns and I stuck to the west-side sidewalk and biked in front of LXR. I should have just been more patient and waited to cross the street because I hate biking on the sidewalks in Georgetown. I don't recommend it. For more of my mundane recommendations, tune in tomorrow or read anything I've ever written.
Illegally parked cars! There's a loading zone by the Starbucks on New Mexico that has a no parking/stopping/idling sign but it must have a caveat written in really small letters that says you can do it if you really need coffee. I mean, it must because I can't believe that so many drivers would carelessly disregard the law (something only bicyclists do). Enforcing this would be a great money-maker for the MPD since I'm pretty sure if you can afford a Mercedes convertible, you can afford a parking ticket. Maybe the parking enforcement could be carried out by officers on bicycles for especially sweet justice.
I got to work with no sweat on my brow. That's a wonderful feeling.
6/10/11
Ride Home 6/10
Amongst the dozen of so readers of this blog must be at least one covert operative employed by the CIA. Evidence? The "Fedex" spy truck was replaced by a Penske van and the surveillance of the Russian Embassy continues. On Monday, it'll probably be a dump truck. Or not, now that I've mentioned it...
It wasn't as hot today as it was yesterday and I could tell this because I both didn't burn the inside of my upper leg when I brushed it against my top tube, as happened yesterday, and because the contents of my water bottle didn't reach a boil today. I could have made tea yesterday. Time to look into a bike-friendly Herend travel mug. They might not make those.
Sometimes you see a guy who might be wearing workout clothes, but he might also be wearing some weird S & M spandex outfit. He sort of looked like Conan O'Brien with a shock of red hair and pale, pale skin. His black shirt was not only tight, but had a deep scoop cut that far exceeded the bounds of good taste and propriety. Maybe I should have lent him my fingerless bike gloves to complete the outfit. Watch out, Burleith.
I "love" when drivers race me. Like, not jokingly, but really try to beat me to the next stop sign. Spoiler alert: cars are going to win. That is, until they hit traffic and then I'm going to win. If you're a driver and you think you're proving some kind of point by driving your car really fast past a bicycle, I can assure you that you are: it's that gas is expensive and you're wasting it trying to race someone who doesn't give a damn.
Never trust walk signals. Walk signals do not tell you that it's safe to cross; they indicate that the property rights of a particular right of way have been temporarily transferred to the pedestrian group. This is a key distinction! What keeps you safe is looking for idiots driving their cars too quickly through red lights because they're distracted by their cell phones and not getting in their way. The crossing between M and the Key Bridge was tricky today- especially in light of the parked, unloading Miller Lite truck outside of Dixie Liquors. It impeded the right lane and made it difficult (for me) to see oncoming car traffic and I'm glad that I took extra caution rather than flit out with my usual insouciance. Because when it comes to flitting and insouciance, I'm basically the Madeline of bike commuters.
There's not many more important skills a bicyclist can learn than the ability to look behind him or her over his or her shoulders. It's not only useful for the purpose of seeing, which is important, but moreover, useful for the purpose of signaling. There's something about that movement that makes drivers take notice. I have previously given instructions on how to practice, but you can also just start doing it without practicing. It's way more effective than hand signals.
I realized when I got home that my sunglasses were smudged and that it wasn't nearly as hazy as I thought it was. Whoops.
It wasn't as hot today as it was yesterday and I could tell this because I both didn't burn the inside of my upper leg when I brushed it against my top tube, as happened yesterday, and because the contents of my water bottle didn't reach a boil today. I could have made tea yesterday. Time to look into a bike-friendly Herend travel mug. They might not make those.
Sometimes you see a guy who might be wearing workout clothes, but he might also be wearing some weird S & M spandex outfit. He sort of looked like Conan O'Brien with a shock of red hair and pale, pale skin. His black shirt was not only tight, but had a deep scoop cut that far exceeded the bounds of good taste and propriety. Maybe I should have lent him my fingerless bike gloves to complete the outfit. Watch out, Burleith.
I "love" when drivers race me. Like, not jokingly, but really try to beat me to the next stop sign. Spoiler alert: cars are going to win. That is, until they hit traffic and then I'm going to win. If you're a driver and you think you're proving some kind of point by driving your car really fast past a bicycle, I can assure you that you are: it's that gas is expensive and you're wasting it trying to race someone who doesn't give a damn.
Never trust walk signals. Walk signals do not tell you that it's safe to cross; they indicate that the property rights of a particular right of way have been temporarily transferred to the pedestrian group. This is a key distinction! What keeps you safe is looking for idiots driving their cars too quickly through red lights because they're distracted by their cell phones and not getting in their way. The crossing between M and the Key Bridge was tricky today- especially in light of the parked, unloading Miller Lite truck outside of Dixie Liquors. It impeded the right lane and made it difficult (for me) to see oncoming car traffic and I'm glad that I took extra caution rather than flit out with my usual insouciance. Because when it comes to flitting and insouciance, I'm basically the Madeline of bike commuters.
There's not many more important skills a bicyclist can learn than the ability to look behind him or her over his or her shoulders. It's not only useful for the purpose of seeing, which is important, but moreover, useful for the purpose of signaling. There's something about that movement that makes drivers take notice. I have previously given instructions on how to practice, but you can also just start doing it without practicing. It's way more effective than hand signals.
I realized when I got home that my sunglasses were smudged and that it wasn't nearly as hazy as I thought it was. Whoops.
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