4/10/12
I will post tomorrow
We're having a dinner party tonight so I'm occupied. By occupied, I mean standing in a corner typing this on my phone as I sip a gimlet and avoid eye contact. I'm not a very good host.
Ride In 4/10: Fibs, damned fibs, and arithmetic
Upon re-reading, yesterday's morning post seemed kind of like a bummer. Who wants to read about bummers? Bums? Surfer dudes? People like for articles on Hummers who mistakenly hit the b key? I certainly don't and I certainly don't like writing posts where all I do is complain about everything. I'll save my complaining for real life, thank you very much.
So, no complaints today, mostly because everything was pretty great. It was nice out, clear and brisk and there really didn't seem to be too many people on the road that gave me anything to complain about. Except for one guy, but I'll keep that to myself, in the spirit of not complaining. Fun fact: The Spirit of Not Complaining was Charles Lindbergh's other plane. Its engine didn't work and its wings fell off, but Mr. Lindbergh kept it to himself so as to not seem a hypocrite. Fun facts about the spirit of St. Louis (not the city, but the guy!): he was sort of jerk, but not nearly as much of a jerk as his brother Charles. This has been your daily over-simplification of 13th century Angevin royal history! (I'm working on a 365 day pull-away calendar)
To enliven my otherwise banal commute, I decided to make it less banal by taking a new route. I'm vastly more exploratory in the morning than I am in the evening, when I pretty much want to point my bike in the direction of the beer in my refrigerator. Fun fact: Charles Lindbergh flew to France to slightly delay his having to start his work day! I rode East Capitol to Penn, but then rode up 11th. Rather than turn left on R, I continued straight into terra incognita, at least as far as my bike commute is concerned. Rather than take R west and then ride Mass in direct line to work, I figured I would go up (north) and over (west) somewhere roughly parallel to my workplace and that this would mostly work out. And it mostly did!
11th is quite a popular bike route and many people were riding their way downhill as I slogged my way up it. The incline isn't too terrible and certainly gentler than 15th. I only had to stop to check my phone once and this was before turning left on Kenyon to make my way back over to 14th and then to Park. I think this route took me past roughly 27 high schools, but I can't be totally sure as I wasn't paying that much attention. Kenyon was a mess with car traffic and so was park. It's a pretty dense neighborhood, but it's the kind of density (single family row homes) that suggest the ownership of cars, and I guess a lot of people decided to use those cars to ride into work. I was the only bicyclist on Kenyon, but I encountered another one on the other side of 16th. I think at that point I was officially in Mount Pleasant, but I'm not really an expert on DC neighborhood geography. I'd suggest for a future Mayor that we mandate all buildings in a given neighborhood to painted the same exterior color. That would definitely clear things up and a be a huge boon to local paint purveyors.
There are no bike lanes on Park, at least not until it splits with Klingle.Then a bike lane appears, but only sort of since it's faded and needs to be restriped. This didn't prove to be great solace as drivers sped past me on the winding curves down into the park. Also, I almost wiped out thanks to some loose gravel. But at least there's bike lanes. Sort of.
And then I realized why I don't commute this way. It's because Rock Creek Park is a giant ravine and if you ride down into it, you have to ride back out. I mentioned Tilden yesterday, but no one saw fit to warn me, so thanks. It's a long, sort of brutal climb about of the park, which might make for a fun weekend activity (if you're into that sort of thing), but is really not what I'm looking for in a commute. I don't know if these numbers mean anything objectively, but it gains 275 feet in .6 miles from the bottom of the hill to Connecticut Avenue. Nonetheless, I went all Rutherford B. Hayes on it and was pleased with my effort. Huzzah for self-satisfaction.
Past Connecticut, there are more bike lanes on Tilden, which stop at Reno and then it was Van Ness to Nebraska and then to work. In Ward Circle, the thing I would complain about it were I complaining about stuff happened, but I'm not going to go into details.
In short, mixing up the route to work was pretty fun. It might have taken a little longer than usual, but not by much. It's still a reminder that east-west and west-east bike connections in DC are pretty lacking, especially if you don't like having to climb out of the park in the morning. As a rare diversion, it was fine, but I'm not sure I would want to do that every day. I've heard Porter Street is pretty bad too.
Looking forward to this afternoon's ride back home, though I might not get a chance to blog about it until tomorrow. You've been warned. I recommend using your "reading TFTS time" to complete in the first annual "Charles Lindbergh Flies Back in Time to Help St. Louis in the Seventh Crusade" diorama contest. A picture of the winner's diorama will be posted on this site. Fame/infamy awaits.
Also, some housekeeping: buy buttons/karaoke to support WABA. And please volunteer to work the bike valet on Saturday. As always, thanks for reading.
So, no complaints today, mostly because everything was pretty great. It was nice out, clear and brisk and there really didn't seem to be too many people on the road that gave me anything to complain about. Except for one guy, but I'll keep that to myself, in the spirit of not complaining. Fun fact: The Spirit of Not Complaining was Charles Lindbergh's other plane. Its engine didn't work and its wings fell off, but Mr. Lindbergh kept it to himself so as to not seem a hypocrite. Fun facts about the spirit of St. Louis (not the city, but the guy!): he was sort of jerk, but not nearly as much of a jerk as his brother Charles. This has been your daily over-simplification of 13th century Angevin royal history! (I'm working on a 365 day pull-away calendar)
To enliven my otherwise banal commute, I decided to make it less banal by taking a new route. I'm vastly more exploratory in the morning than I am in the evening, when I pretty much want to point my bike in the direction of the beer in my refrigerator. Fun fact: Charles Lindbergh flew to France to slightly delay his having to start his work day! I rode East Capitol to Penn, but then rode up 11th. Rather than turn left on R, I continued straight into terra incognita, at least as far as my bike commute is concerned. Rather than take R west and then ride Mass in direct line to work, I figured I would go up (north) and over (west) somewhere roughly parallel to my workplace and that this would mostly work out. And it mostly did!
11th is quite a popular bike route and many people were riding their way downhill as I slogged my way up it. The incline isn't too terrible and certainly gentler than 15th. I only had to stop to check my phone once and this was before turning left on Kenyon to make my way back over to 14th and then to Park. I think this route took me past roughly 27 high schools, but I can't be totally sure as I wasn't paying that much attention. Kenyon was a mess with car traffic and so was park. It's a pretty dense neighborhood, but it's the kind of density (single family row homes) that suggest the ownership of cars, and I guess a lot of people decided to use those cars to ride into work. I was the only bicyclist on Kenyon, but I encountered another one on the other side of 16th. I think at that point I was officially in Mount Pleasant, but I'm not really an expert on DC neighborhood geography. I'd suggest for a future Mayor that we mandate all buildings in a given neighborhood to painted the same exterior color. That would definitely clear things up and a be a huge boon to local paint purveyors.
There are no bike lanes on Park, at least not until it splits with Klingle.Then a bike lane appears, but only sort of since it's faded and needs to be restriped. This didn't prove to be great solace as drivers sped past me on the winding curves down into the park. Also, I almost wiped out thanks to some loose gravel. But at least there's bike lanes. Sort of.
And then I realized why I don't commute this way. It's because Rock Creek Park is a giant ravine and if you ride down into it, you have to ride back out. I mentioned Tilden yesterday, but no one saw fit to warn me, so thanks. It's a long, sort of brutal climb about of the park, which might make for a fun weekend activity (if you're into that sort of thing), but is really not what I'm looking for in a commute. I don't know if these numbers mean anything objectively, but it gains 275 feet in .6 miles from the bottom of the hill to Connecticut Avenue. Nonetheless, I went all Rutherford B. Hayes on it and was pleased with my effort. Huzzah for self-satisfaction.
Past Connecticut, there are more bike lanes on Tilden, which stop at Reno and then it was Van Ness to Nebraska and then to work. In Ward Circle, the thing I would complain about it were I complaining about stuff happened, but I'm not going to go into details.
In short, mixing up the route to work was pretty fun. It might have taken a little longer than usual, but not by much. It's still a reminder that east-west and west-east bike connections in DC are pretty lacking, especially if you don't like having to climb out of the park in the morning. As a rare diversion, it was fine, but I'm not sure I would want to do that every day. I've heard Porter Street is pretty bad too.
Looking forward to this afternoon's ride back home, though I might not get a chance to blog about it until tomorrow. You've been warned. I recommend using your "reading TFTS time" to complete in the first annual "Charles Lindbergh Flies Back in Time to Help St. Louis in the Seventh Crusade" diorama contest. A picture of the winner's diorama will be posted on this site. Fame/infamy awaits.
Also, some housekeeping: buy buttons/karaoke to support WABA. And please volunteer to work the bike valet on Saturday. As always, thanks for reading.
4/9/12
Guest Post: @CapCityChewy and the Fortuitous Grapefruit
Monday night means one thing: football! But only during football season, which it currently isn't. So it means two things really, the other being my posting a guest post, which is a real treat. It's better than a rice krispie treat (by a lot) and also better than Treat Williams (by a little). Tonight's post is a conversion story and like that of St. Augustine, it involves fruit. Many, many thanks to CapCityChewy for generously providing his tale.
What exactly does it take to convince a 300 pound 30-something to begin biking to work? Grapefruit.
I needed some for a party last July and stores close to me didn’t have any so I hopped on a Circulator and rode up to a Harris Teeter and snagged their last bag. Pressed for time and with no return bus in site, I looked around for a cab but there were none. It was at that moment that I remembered the Capital Bikeshare around the corner and decided, ‘what the hell.’ I secured the sack of fruit to the front basket, jumped on the bike, pedaled down the block, and then nearly fell off the bike at the first stop sign. They say you never forget to ride a bike but they don’t say anything about forgetting to brake and stop correctly. Eight glorious minutes later (it was pretty much all downhill) I was back at my apartment feeling pretty good about myself. So good in fact, that I decided that I would bike to work the following Monday.
Monday came and went and it wasn’t until Thursday of that week until I actually got around to commuting; it took three days to convince myself that I could actually do it. So Thursday, July 21 ended up being my first day of commuting. It was also the day that the heat index reached 109 degrees. I was not a smart man.
On Thursday I woke up extra early and headed down the street to the nearest CaBi station and was dripping sweat by the time I got there. My commute had me going from the Navy Yard to the Golden Triangle area of DC and I was excited. And nervous. I had researched my route and the location of other CaBi stations along the way (I didn’t want to go beyond my 30 minutes). I was cruising along for the first mile or so. Once I got on the Pennsylvania Ave cycle track though, I began to feel a bit winded. For some reason I decided to abandon the safety of the Penn Ave track and head uphill through Chinatown. When I reach the corner of 7th and G, I stopped at the red light and did my best not to vomit on the tourists who were waiting to cross the street next to me. At that moment I seriously began to question myself. I also began to get mad for allowing myself to get so woefully out of shape. It wasn’t my fault that beer was so delicious. Anyway, I pressed onward and eventually made it to the stop near my office. It took me 29min and 43 seconds.
I was spent. My legs were dead. I couldn’t seem to drink enough water. I was tired all afternoon. And I couldn’t wait to do it again... although I did wait. Because I was sore and tired, I metro’d home that first evening and waited until the next day to ride again.
At some point the following week I rode to Capitol Hill on my home and bought a bike helmet. Between the brutal heat and physical exertion, I was dripping so much sweat that I’m pretty sure people on the street thought I was going through heroin withdrawal. I didn’t care though, I was doing something that I enjoyed and it was good for me.
In the months since my first ride I’ve noticed a number of things:
1. I have this desire to always get to work as quickly as possible now. I blame CaBi’s dashboard where I can login and check my rental time after every trip. My record is 17m 40s, in case you were wondering (you weren’t).
2. I am inching closer and closer to buying a bike but every time I do more research I’m introduced to 50 more bikes and possibilities. The task is far more daunting than I ever imagined; I don’t even know which bike shop is best for me.
3. I find myself finding reasons/excuses to go out and ride around. Whether it’s running errands or going to a friend’s place, I try to get there by bike.
4. I find myself blatantly staring at other people’s bikes all the time.
5. Contrary to every belief that I had at the beginning, my size has not hindered me at all. No one’s heckled me and many people actually like to fall in line behind me because I block A LOT of wind.
Having been to the Netherlands and Denmark, it’s clear that the US is terribly far behind in bike infrastructure but it’s also just as clear that we are nearing a tipping point—especially in DC—where visible, measureable, tangible things are happening at a staggering rate and people are taking notice. It’s a great first step and I encourage anyone who thinks they want to give biking a try to go ahead and just do it. I won’t judge you.
What exactly does it take to convince a 300 pound 30-something to begin biking to work? Grapefruit.
I needed some for a party last July and stores close to me didn’t have any so I hopped on a Circulator and rode up to a Harris Teeter and snagged their last bag. Pressed for time and with no return bus in site, I looked around for a cab but there were none. It was at that moment that I remembered the Capital Bikeshare around the corner and decided, ‘what the hell.’ I secured the sack of fruit to the front basket, jumped on the bike, pedaled down the block, and then nearly fell off the bike at the first stop sign. They say you never forget to ride a bike but they don’t say anything about forgetting to brake and stop correctly. Eight glorious minutes later (it was pretty much all downhill) I was back at my apartment feeling pretty good about myself. So good in fact, that I decided that I would bike to work the following Monday.
Monday came and went and it wasn’t until Thursday of that week until I actually got around to commuting; it took three days to convince myself that I could actually do it. So Thursday, July 21 ended up being my first day of commuting. It was also the day that the heat index reached 109 degrees. I was not a smart man.
On Thursday I woke up extra early and headed down the street to the nearest CaBi station and was dripping sweat by the time I got there. My commute had me going from the Navy Yard to the Golden Triangle area of DC and I was excited. And nervous. I had researched my route and the location of other CaBi stations along the way (I didn’t want to go beyond my 30 minutes). I was cruising along for the first mile or so. Once I got on the Pennsylvania Ave cycle track though, I began to feel a bit winded. For some reason I decided to abandon the safety of the Penn Ave track and head uphill through Chinatown. When I reach the corner of 7th and G, I stopped at the red light and did my best not to vomit on the tourists who were waiting to cross the street next to me. At that moment I seriously began to question myself. I also began to get mad for allowing myself to get so woefully out of shape. It wasn’t my fault that beer was so delicious. Anyway, I pressed onward and eventually made it to the stop near my office. It took me 29min and 43 seconds.
I was spent. My legs were dead. I couldn’t seem to drink enough water. I was tired all afternoon. And I couldn’t wait to do it again... although I did wait. Because I was sore and tired, I metro’d home that first evening and waited until the next day to ride again.
At some point the following week I rode to Capitol Hill on my home and bought a bike helmet. Between the brutal heat and physical exertion, I was dripping so much sweat that I’m pretty sure people on the street thought I was going through heroin withdrawal. I didn’t care though, I was doing something that I enjoyed and it was good for me.
In the months since my first ride I’ve noticed a number of things:
1. I have this desire to always get to work as quickly as possible now. I blame CaBi’s dashboard where I can login and check my rental time after every trip. My record is 17m 40s, in case you were wondering (you weren’t).
2. I am inching closer and closer to buying a bike but every time I do more research I’m introduced to 50 more bikes and possibilities. The task is far more daunting than I ever imagined; I don’t even know which bike shop is best for me.
3. I find myself finding reasons/excuses to go out and ride around. Whether it’s running errands or going to a friend’s place, I try to get there by bike.
4. I find myself blatantly staring at other people’s bikes all the time.
5. Contrary to every belief that I had at the beginning, my size has not hindered me at all. No one’s heckled me and many people actually like to fall in line behind me because I block A LOT of wind.
Having been to the Netherlands and Denmark, it’s clear that the US is terribly far behind in bike infrastructure but it’s also just as clear that we are nearing a tipping point—especially in DC—where visible, measureable, tangible things are happening at a staggering rate and people are taking notice. It’s a great first step and I encourage anyone who thinks they want to give biking a try to go ahead and just do it. I won’t judge you.
Ride In 4/9: Faith, Hope & Gloria
Easter Monday is a holiday is some places, but not here, not in America. Instead it's the day we all bike ham sandwiches to work, or at least a day when we could, had I not forgotten to make a ham sandwich with some of the leftovers of the 9 pound ham that we prepared yesterday. Instead, I biked sandwichless, though I did have in my pannier around 30 or so DC Sharrows Buttons, some of which I plan to mail this afternoon, boat shoes, both of which are currently on my feet even though I'm not currently boating, and a bright yellow jacket which I might wear if it rains during the afternoon commute.
It was a tad windy this morning, so I ducked in behind some other bike commuters to draft off them. Actually, come to think of it, I didn't do that because that would be anti-social and foolish. While I did ride in a line of commuters five or six long up Pennsylvania, we were no pace line, which was for the best. It's not a race.
And yet, to so many bike commuters, it is. Time for some real talk: slow down and stop biking like jackasses. It's not exactly the speed part that bothers me- biking fast is fine and everyone has their own speed at which they feel comfortable. It's the "marauding" part that bother me. Like when you pass another person on a bicycle too closely or when you try to dart through a group of pedestrians crossing in a crosswalk. Pedestrians, after all, are just like bicyclists without the bikes and they're equally vulnerable road users and rushing at them headlong and demanding that they make way for you, even when law and common sense are on their side, is just a jerk thing to do. So, notwithstanding my usual caveat of "do whatever the hell you want- I'm not your mom," I'd like to suggest maybe a "2 feet to pass" rule for passing a pedestrian. And if you can't give 2 feet, maybe that's an indication that you should stop and wait...? Just throwing it out there. And lest everyone comment with their own "This jaywalking asshole almost walked into me, so pedestrians can be jerks too" story, yeah, I have one too (I have one almost every day), but that's not really the point. What driver doesn't have a "this biker was an asshole" story? Anyway, I'd just like to casually suggest that maybe when operating a bicycle in confined spaces (like a cycle track or in an elevator or an imaginary glass box if you're a mime), you pay attention and heed those around you, especially the more (or equally) vulnerable. I'm sort of convinced that I'm much more likely to be collided into by another bicyclist than I am a driver, at least from what I've seen lately. But like I said, do what you want. I'm not here to scold. (It's not called Scolds from the Sharrows. Not yet, at least)
East Capitol to Penn to 15th to R to Mass to work. That's pretty much my basic outline, but I think I'm going to change it up to make my ride a little bit longer so I can enjoymy allergies the nice weather for longer in the morning. Does anyone ride up Rock Creek during the morning? I've done it a few times, but it seems too windy for my tastes and also I feel like the blog would read like "Saw a bird. Saw some trees. The brook bubbled." Were I trail-inclined, I suppose I could come straight across town and take the Capital Crescent up and around, but I think I'm going to look for a way to cross the park farther north. Like Tilden or Park, maybe. The best part of the bike commute is trying out new routes, so I'll keep you posted if I ever actually get around to doing that because ultimately a bike commute is still a commute and we get into habits.
What do you do when a pedestrian runs across the street against the light and almost smashes into you and then gives you a dirty of look after you scream STOP-HEY! in order to get through to him through his ear buds? I tend to either mutter something under my breath, but when I'm feeling especially piqued, I like to point to the traffic lights. You know, like a gentle reminder that I had the green light. Though that's maybe a little silly, since the gesture reminds me of one that certain sluggers do to give props to Jeebus after hitting a home run. I'm sure my pointing does nothing but bring about muttering from other pedestrians about that "asshole biker," regardless of the fact that I wasn't in the wrong. Oh well.
And now, my angry tale of angry good samaritanism. I was riding on Mass and there was another bicyclist in front of me. I noticed that there was something catching in his back wheel and it looked a little strange. I then noticed it was his neck tie, which I surmised had fallen out of his pocket and was now dangling, having gotten itself wound around his brakes. This, in my opinion, seemed very dangerous, since a tie catching in the spokes or brakes might cause all sorts of mechanical issues, up to and including his being thrown off his bike, and I'd certainly want to know about that potential were it me. So, I pulled up beside the guy and said "Hey" and he ignored me. So I said "Hey, your tie is stuck in your wheel" and he said "What?" because he didn't hear me clearly. And then I said "Your tie. It's stuck in your rear wheel" and he said "Ok," but kept pedaling. This wasn't ok. So, sharply, I said "STOP YOUR BIKE AND CHECK YOUR REAR WHEEL" and he did. There was no reason for me to be this harsh and I apologize, though I should have apologized then. I guess I was still peeved about the jackass pedestrian from before and from this guy's ignoring my trying to help. I stopped alongside him and he checked his tie, which I then saw was quite covered in bike gunk and probably irreparably ruined. I started pedaling again and he said, sheepishly, "thanks." I wish that I had a greater presence of mind to suggest that he use the brake pads to press black stripes into his otherwise ruined tie, but then again, life isn't really a Mentos commercial.
I decided that I would try to pedal up Massachusetts as fast as I could, seeing if I dissipate my mild annoyance through physical exertion and that mostly worked, though it mostly just made me sweaty and winded. The rest of the ride was more or less fine, except for one close pass before Ward Circle.
It was a tad windy this morning, so I ducked in behind some other bike commuters to draft off them. Actually, come to think of it, I didn't do that because that would be anti-social and foolish. While I did ride in a line of commuters five or six long up Pennsylvania, we were no pace line, which was for the best. It's not a race.
And yet, to so many bike commuters, it is. Time for some real talk: slow down and stop biking like jackasses. It's not exactly the speed part that bothers me- biking fast is fine and everyone has their own speed at which they feel comfortable. It's the "marauding" part that bother me. Like when you pass another person on a bicycle too closely or when you try to dart through a group of pedestrians crossing in a crosswalk. Pedestrians, after all, are just like bicyclists without the bikes and they're equally vulnerable road users and rushing at them headlong and demanding that they make way for you, even when law and common sense are on their side, is just a jerk thing to do. So, notwithstanding my usual caveat of "do whatever the hell you want- I'm not your mom," I'd like to suggest maybe a "2 feet to pass" rule for passing a pedestrian. And if you can't give 2 feet, maybe that's an indication that you should stop and wait...? Just throwing it out there. And lest everyone comment with their own "This jaywalking asshole almost walked into me, so pedestrians can be jerks too" story, yeah, I have one too (I have one almost every day), but that's not really the point. What driver doesn't have a "this biker was an asshole" story? Anyway, I'd just like to casually suggest that maybe when operating a bicycle in confined spaces (like a cycle track or in an elevator or an imaginary glass box if you're a mime), you pay attention and heed those around you, especially the more (or equally) vulnerable. I'm sort of convinced that I'm much more likely to be collided into by another bicyclist than I am a driver, at least from what I've seen lately. But like I said, do what you want. I'm not here to scold. (It's not called Scolds from the Sharrows. Not yet, at least)
East Capitol to Penn to 15th to R to Mass to work. That's pretty much my basic outline, but I think I'm going to change it up to make my ride a little bit longer so I can enjoy
What do you do when a pedestrian runs across the street against the light and almost smashes into you and then gives you a dirty of look after you scream STOP-HEY! in order to get through to him through his ear buds? I tend to either mutter something under my breath, but when I'm feeling especially piqued, I like to point to the traffic lights. You know, like a gentle reminder that I had the green light. Though that's maybe a little silly, since the gesture reminds me of one that certain sluggers do to give props to Jeebus after hitting a home run. I'm sure my pointing does nothing but bring about muttering from other pedestrians about that "asshole biker," regardless of the fact that I wasn't in the wrong. Oh well.
And now, my angry tale of angry good samaritanism. I was riding on Mass and there was another bicyclist in front of me. I noticed that there was something catching in his back wheel and it looked a little strange. I then noticed it was his neck tie, which I surmised had fallen out of his pocket and was now dangling, having gotten itself wound around his brakes. This, in my opinion, seemed very dangerous, since a tie catching in the spokes or brakes might cause all sorts of mechanical issues, up to and including his being thrown off his bike, and I'd certainly want to know about that potential were it me. So, I pulled up beside the guy and said "Hey" and he ignored me. So I said "Hey, your tie is stuck in your wheel" and he said "What?" because he didn't hear me clearly. And then I said "Your tie. It's stuck in your rear wheel" and he said "Ok," but kept pedaling. This wasn't ok. So, sharply, I said "STOP YOUR BIKE AND CHECK YOUR REAR WHEEL" and he did. There was no reason for me to be this harsh and I apologize, though I should have apologized then. I guess I was still peeved about the jackass pedestrian from before and from this guy's ignoring my trying to help. I stopped alongside him and he checked his tie, which I then saw was quite covered in bike gunk and probably irreparably ruined. I started pedaling again and he said, sheepishly, "thanks." I wish that I had a greater presence of mind to suggest that he use the brake pads to press black stripes into his otherwise ruined tie, but then again, life isn't really a Mentos commercial.
I decided that I would try to pedal up Massachusetts as fast as I could, seeing if I dissipate my mild annoyance through physical exertion and that mostly worked, though it mostly just made me sweaty and winded. The rest of the ride was more or less fine, except for one close pass before Ward Circle.
4/7/12
Ride Home 4/6: Hardboiled detectives like hard-boiled eggs
Thursday afternoon must've been an anomaly. Barely anyone else on a bike on the ride, though this might have something to do with that fact that some people didn't work and many employers let out early and by the time I was on the road it was just me and the crazy yahoo drivers who were upset that they weren't let out early and would compensate for the two hour advantage of others by driving 10 miles per hour over the speed limit. I'm no "mathemagician" but I'm pretty sure that's not going to make too much of a difference. Also, an out of service bus cut me off, so that wasn't that fun either.
One of my biggest anxieties is the fear that driver stuck in a row of stopped cars will attempt to move into the other lane, assuming it's moving, and just not see me. This is why I tend to tailgate through situations like this. I figure that if I leave any kind of gap between the myself and the car in front of me, someone is going to try to move over. Because nothing is worse that being stopped in traffic, it creates some sort of situational imperative that hampers vision and judgment and prudence. I wonder what percentage of car vs. bike incidents are caused in this manner.
Dupont Circle metro music was three guys singing doo-wop a capella. It's nice to have that as a minor distraction during the more frustrating, slow, and car traffic-inhibited part of my trip. Pedestrians and bicyclists really get the worst of it. Boo.
Sunderland-Tottenham this morning. Pointing out that it's on is the extent of my analysis.
Around 11th and P, a speck of dirt found its way into my right eye and I couldn't get it out. It was terribly uncomfortable and neither power-winking nor aggressive eye rubbing could manage to dislodge it. I would have really preferred to do an impromptu eye wash, but the only liquid I had on me was the dregs of the morning coffee in my mug and dumping that over my face would have likely made the problem worse. I struggled along (stupidly) trying to dislodge the speck (out down speck!), varying my strategies and sometimes just trying to keep both of my eyes open to, you know, be able to see while biking through traffic. Or at least see with some depth perception. I should've just pulled over. I am a dope.
On E Capitol, by the Library of Congress, I saw a family of three Asian tourists riding Bikeshare, led by a youngish boy of maybe 13. At the corner, he asked two members of the state security forces where the nearest dock was and they both sort of shrugged. One suggested that they head down to Eastern Market. I chimed in that there's a station three blocks away. The tourists seemed pretty happy about that. I asked the officers if they'd ever been asked about Bikeshare before. They said no, but one clarified that he normally worked overnights. I'm glad I was there to witness this momentous first.
One of my biggest anxieties is the fear that driver stuck in a row of stopped cars will attempt to move into the other lane, assuming it's moving, and just not see me. This is why I tend to tailgate through situations like this. I figure that if I leave any kind of gap between the myself and the car in front of me, someone is going to try to move over. Because nothing is worse that being stopped in traffic, it creates some sort of situational imperative that hampers vision and judgment and prudence. I wonder what percentage of car vs. bike incidents are caused in this manner.
Dupont Circle metro music was three guys singing doo-wop a capella. It's nice to have that as a minor distraction during the more frustrating, slow, and car traffic-inhibited part of my trip. Pedestrians and bicyclists really get the worst of it. Boo.
Sunderland-Tottenham this morning. Pointing out that it's on is the extent of my analysis.
Around 11th and P, a speck of dirt found its way into my right eye and I couldn't get it out. It was terribly uncomfortable and neither power-winking nor aggressive eye rubbing could manage to dislodge it. I would have really preferred to do an impromptu eye wash, but the only liquid I had on me was the dregs of the morning coffee in my mug and dumping that over my face would have likely made the problem worse. I struggled along (stupidly) trying to dislodge the speck (out down speck!), varying my strategies and sometimes just trying to keep both of my eyes open to, you know, be able to see while biking through traffic. Or at least see with some depth perception. I should've just pulled over. I am a dope.
On E Capitol, by the Library of Congress, I saw a family of three Asian tourists riding Bikeshare, led by a youngish boy of maybe 13. At the corner, he asked two members of the state security forces where the nearest dock was and they both sort of shrugged. One suggested that they head down to Eastern Market. I chimed in that there's a station three blocks away. The tourists seemed pretty happy about that. I asked the officers if they'd ever been asked about Bikeshare before. They said no, but one clarified that he normally worked overnights. I'm glad I was there to witness this momentous first.
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