Some more housekeeping. Buttons. I used to sell them. I have credit card information from two of you, but not your names. One of you has emailed me previously, but from an address that keeps bouncing back my reply, so if you could send again me another note, with your name and address, that'd be great. Sorry for dropping the ball on this and for the delay. The other person- the one I haven't been able to figure out- should send me name and address, and the last four digits of the card used. It was in late June. Hopefully you still read the blog and haven't abandoned it thinking I've stolen your money and absconded with your rightful button. My email address is talesfromthesharrows@gmail.com. Thanks!
I was gonna do the whole normal "ride the whole way to work" thing, but I came downstairs this morning to find my bike's rear tire as flat as [geographic place that is very flat] and this was discouraging. Also, EtP (Ellie the Poodle) was a little sick (poor baby) and this delayed my leaving the house, so when I decided to take Bikeshare, I figured that I'd combine Bikeshare with Metro and make my trip multimodal. That is was about 90 degrees when I left the house also factored into my Metro decision.
I got the final bike at 15th and Independence SE. Sorry, guy who normally gets that bike. There were three showing on Spotcycle, but two people took bikes right as I turned the corner. Had there not been a bike there, I probably would've just gone home and cried for the rest of the day. That, or walk another two blocks to the next station. (For what it's worth, I'm ridiculously spoiled when it comes to all matters transportation. I live three blocks from a Metro Station where a lot of buses stop, two blocks from one Bikeshare and 3 blocks from another, and my house has a detached garage where my weekend car lives. I really need to remember how lucky I am before I opine on how others should get places). I rode up Mass, passing the guy who got the CaBi immediately before I got mine, circled Lincoln Park, where there was one CaBi remaining after 8, and then headed down Mass towards Union Station. My office is closest to the Tenleytown stop on the Red Line, so rather than take the line nearest my house and transfer at MetroCenter (ugh), I figured I'd bike two miles and avoid the transfer. I don't know if this provides any financial benefit or lessens the cost of the trip. It did allow my to add biking to my commute instead of frustrated standing around on a train platform, so that was nice. Also, I might be daisy-chaining bike trips in order to juice my numbers in the 2milechallenge. Not ashamed of that in the least. Get off your bike to tie your shoe? Pretty sure that's a distinct trip. Just saying...
The Bikeshare station at Union Station is on the opposite side of the building as the Metro entrance. Sort of dumb.
I can't tell you much about my Metro trip other than the escalator was temporarily out of service (like for 15 seconds until an employee inserted his key, twisted it and it was off again. Two keys for nuclear launch, one key for escalators) and that the train was there when I got to the platform, so there was no waiting. I don't take Metro very frequently (you know, with the bike commuting blog and such), but it always reminds me of a waiting room at a doctor's office. And not just because everyone is suffering from some sort of malady and looks miserable. I think it's just that feeling of people killing time until the next thing happens, namely their exit. It's a place and space where time passes, but it's nothing time. I guess it's good for reading. I listened to the Slate Hang Up and Listen podcast.
I exited at Tenleytown and took the Bikeshare to work, where there's also a station. It was under a mile, I think. I left the station prior to adjusting the seat. Guess I was in a hurry.
Riding home, I decided that I would also combine my bike trip with a train ride, but this time would skip the hill at the other end of my trip. The "stage profile" of my commute looks sort of like a V, with hills on both ends, so I figured I could handle the downhill part after work and use the Metro to skip the uphill part. I aimed for Farragut West.
When I take Bikeshare, I ride on the sidewalk down Massachusetts Avenue. I can't get a CaBi to keep pace with traffic, so I figure it's just better to stay out of it. At the base of the hill, I reintegrated into vehicular society. I'm pretty sure that didn't require I check in with a parole officer.
Mass to 20th to New Hampshire to 21st (should've just taken 21st initially) to the still cycle track-less L Street, which somehow seems less fraught you slower you go and then down Connecticut Avenue to not making an illegal left turn onto K to instead ride illegally on the sidewalk for half a block, so my bad. The dock is at the northeast side of the square and I docked and walked the last block to the Metro, caught the train relatively soon thereafter and took it to Stadium Armory and walked the three blocks home.
I don't have many deep thoughts to share about combining Bikeshare trips with train trips, other them it seems really convenient and I wonder if a lot of people do this kind of thing daily. Inspired by people in Sweden (no, not ABBA), I try to take all of my shorter trips (under 3 miles) solely by bike or walk. I think it's a pretty reasonable goal and I don't think you need to be a "cyclist" to do it.
7/17/12
7/16/12
Ride Home 7/16: Root beer floats because of buoyancy
It is disconcerting to have a stinging bug careen into your face. More disconcerting when in the final throes of its unintended kamikaze attack, it manages to somehow sting you. On the left ear lobe. It really hurt. Now, I can't necessarily blame the stinging bugs, but they really need to get with the times and learn to share the road. Stinging insects are like the Maryland drivers of the animal kingdom.
Otherwise it was a fine ride down Massachusetts and a pretty quick ride across town and even more across than usual in that I bypassed my usual turn at 11th, continued on the sharrows on Rhode Island Avenue for 100 feet (it was correctly noted the other day that I write a blog called what this blog is called and don't partake in its namesake bike infrastructure during any part of my normal commute route.) and then down Q farther east. I intended to turn right onto First NW, but there was crummy car traffic that would've slowed me down, so I turned around after half a block and crossed North Capitol onto Florida, a road I've never taken during a weekday commute, in spite of its diagonal-itude that points more-or-less in the direction of my home. I've typically avoided it because it has always seemed trafficky and has little in the way of accommodation for bicyclists. I found myself riding behind another guy, he impossibly hip transporting a skateboard in his backpack, astride a fixie and wearing some kind of kulaks/black dress sock/skateboard shoes combination.I felt rather unimpossibly hip in comparison.
Nevertheless, this guy helped me crack the riddle that is NoMa bike geography, namely how to get from Dave Thomas Circle (a traffic pattern euphemistically named after the Wendy's it encircles. If there are any non-DC readers, this is not a put-on) to parts of the city that I recognize and that pretty much meant ditching Florida to cross New York Avenue and pick up First NE on the other side. This worked out exceptionally well. The whole Q--> Florida --> First NE thing is worth repeating and it completely bypassed downtown and the Mall and I very much didn't mind that. Sorry McMillan Plan.
I stopped at Harris Teeter to buy groceries. A good 8/9 of the readership of this blog doesn't get the "pleasure" of having to cope with my grocery shopping "skills," but the Official Wife does and here's what she had to work with:
Beer. I can reliably be counted on to purchase beer.
Country ham. A little left field, but country ham is delicious.
Bread. A loaf. Not a baguette. I've learned my lesson.
Chocolate cake. I always try to remember to bring home chocolate cake as a kind of practice apology for the other stuff I bring home.
Stuff like:
Worcestershire sauce. What? I bought this because we didn't have any. I'm pretty sure we haven't had any for five years. I have no immediate plans for the use of this sauce.
Bourbon BBQ sauce. Because, um, we didn't have any and because it's summer and summer requires sauces of various flavor and hue.
And to round it out, some zucchini and yellow squash. I can only be relied upon to bring home two kinds of vegetables: squash and broccoli. That's pretty much my deal.
We ended up eating waffles for dinner. And the squash.
From the store, It was M to 4th NE, to and around Stanton Park and then down Mass and around to A and then home. For most of my ride from the store, I found myself repeating the words "Dothraki hordes" in my best Richard Carlisle from Downton Abbey (saw that show first. Sorry) accent. I watched the entire first season of Game of Thrones this weekend. Might've overdone it. In any case, I think the imitation was ok, except I might've sounded a little more like Darrell Hammond as Sean Connery. S-words.
Otherwise it was a fine ride down Massachusetts and a pretty quick ride across town and even more across than usual in that I bypassed my usual turn at 11th, continued on the sharrows on Rhode Island Avenue for 100 feet (it was correctly noted the other day that I write a blog called what this blog is called and don't partake in its namesake bike infrastructure during any part of my normal commute route.) and then down Q farther east. I intended to turn right onto First NW, but there was crummy car traffic that would've slowed me down, so I turned around after half a block and crossed North Capitol onto Florida, a road I've never taken during a weekday commute, in spite of its diagonal-itude that points more-or-less in the direction of my home. I've typically avoided it because it has always seemed trafficky and has little in the way of accommodation for bicyclists. I found myself riding behind another guy, he impossibly hip transporting a skateboard in his backpack, astride a fixie and wearing some kind of kulaks/black dress sock/skateboard shoes combination.I felt rather unimpossibly hip in comparison.
Nevertheless, this guy helped me crack the riddle that is NoMa bike geography, namely how to get from Dave Thomas Circle (a traffic pattern euphemistically named after the Wendy's it encircles. If there are any non-DC readers, this is not a put-on) to parts of the city that I recognize and that pretty much meant ditching Florida to cross New York Avenue and pick up First NE on the other side. This worked out exceptionally well. The whole Q--> Florida --> First NE thing is worth repeating and it completely bypassed downtown and the Mall and I very much didn't mind that. Sorry McMillan Plan.
I stopped at Harris Teeter to buy groceries. A good 8/9 of the readership of this blog doesn't get the "pleasure" of having to cope with my grocery shopping "skills," but the Official Wife does and here's what she had to work with:
Beer. I can reliably be counted on to purchase beer.
Country ham. A little left field, but country ham is delicious.
Bread. A loaf. Not a baguette. I've learned my lesson.
Chocolate cake. I always try to remember to bring home chocolate cake as a kind of practice apology for the other stuff I bring home.
Stuff like:
Worcestershire sauce. What? I bought this because we didn't have any. I'm pretty sure we haven't had any for five years. I have no immediate plans for the use of this sauce.
Bourbon BBQ sauce. Because, um, we didn't have any and because it's summer and summer requires sauces of various flavor and hue.
And to round it out, some zucchini and yellow squash. I can only be relied upon to bring home two kinds of vegetables: squash and broccoli. That's pretty much my deal.
We ended up eating waffles for dinner. And the squash.
From the store, It was M to 4th NE, to and around Stanton Park and then down Mass and around to A and then home. For most of my ride from the store, I found myself repeating the words "Dothraki hordes" in my best Richard Carlisle from Downton Abbey (saw that show first. Sorry) accent. I watched the entire first season of Game of Thrones this weekend. Might've overdone it. In any case, I think the imitation was ok, except I might've sounded a little more like Darrell Hammond as Sean Connery. S-words.
Ride In 7/16: The UN Cola
As you're hopefully well aware, WashCycle is an indispensable resource for all matters cycling in the Washington DC Regional Area (WaDCRA is the hipper real estate agents refuse to call it). He also posts pictures which inspire me to take different routes to work. Like this, by Union Station. Is the newest section of the Metropolitan Branch Trail. But it sort of just looks like a sidewalk, so I never would have known. Other things I don't know about, exactly, is how best to get to Met Branch Trail from its M Street termination point to Union Station. Right now, there's are bike lanes on 1st Street NE from G Steet, but there's a one block gap that looks like this:
View Larger Map
So, you're given the opportunity to ride down a sidewalk past some loading docks or salmon on the street into the trucks that have just left the loading docks. Within the next two-ish years, we're getting a cycle track on First Street, which should really help this connection, assuming that the cycle track won't be constantly blocked by trucks entering and exiting the loading docks. And then some day, the construction around Columbus Circle will be finished and there will be bike lanes and it will almost be as if the powers that be didn't want it to be terrible to bike near Union Station.
Riding near Union Station was a tale of fast and slow. I got stuck behind a guy on a red Canondale hybrid with yellow lettering and it looked like he was on a CaBi but he wasn't. I didn't want to pass him because I didn't want to end up stopped in front of him at a red light. On First NE, I was passed by a sporty looking bike commuter who felt the need to tailgate the sports car in front of us prior to turning into a parking garage a few blocks later. There was basically no other bike commuters on the Met Branch Trail, which is a shame because it's a rather good trail and getting better all of the time.
Eckington might be the neighborhood most bike lanes per street in all of DC, but my assessment of this might be based on my not knowing exactly where Eckington is.
I rode R across town and I have the following to say: ladies be cycling.
This is at 7th, when there were only 5 women cyclists in front of me. Thereafter, the two women behind me passed (probably because I was a creepy dude taking a picture so sorry about that) and then another woman rode by and I was the ninth in a convoy of bike commuters and the only guy. I point this out to counter the myth that women don't bike and also because I'm a big fan of the "ladies be ______" construction that you sometimes see on Jezebel. I don't want to say that the statistics are wrong, because generally speaking I try to trust statistics over anecdota, but I'm pretty sure the statistics are wrong.
View Larger Map
So, you're given the opportunity to ride down a sidewalk past some loading docks or salmon on the street into the trucks that have just left the loading docks. Within the next two-ish years, we're getting a cycle track on First Street, which should really help this connection, assuming that the cycle track won't be constantly blocked by trucks entering and exiting the loading docks. And then some day, the construction around Columbus Circle will be finished and there will be bike lanes and it will almost be as if the powers that be didn't want it to be terrible to bike near Union Station.
Riding near Union Station was a tale of fast and slow. I got stuck behind a guy on a red Canondale hybrid with yellow lettering and it looked like he was on a CaBi but he wasn't. I didn't want to pass him because I didn't want to end up stopped in front of him at a red light. On First NE, I was passed by a sporty looking bike commuter who felt the need to tailgate the sports car in front of us prior to turning into a parking garage a few blocks later. There was basically no other bike commuters on the Met Branch Trail, which is a shame because it's a rather good trail and getting better all of the time.
Eckington might be the neighborhood most bike lanes per street in all of DC, but my assessment of this might be based on my not knowing exactly where Eckington is.
I rode R across town and I have the following to say: ladies be cycling.
 |
| The aforementioned ladies. |
And now for a brusque transition. There are many murals in Washington DC, but did you know about the Tiger Woods mural?
 |
| "Golf Wang" |
I'll be here all week, folks.
R Street was pretty quick and Massachusetts Avenue was its usual pace and there wasn't much in the way of drama during this ride at all and I was rather quite pleased with the whole thing. I had a lot of weird songs stuck in my head, which I chose to whistle as a means of exorcism, and while I'm pretty sure it's not actually beginning to look at a lot like Christmas, anyone listening carefully to my tunes might think that I think so.
Rode in a cotton t shirt today. That's almost never a good decision. Synthetics and wool are preferable.
I'm in a good mood and I'd keep writing, but I've run out of things to say and even worse, run out of time to say it. Off to a two hour meeting, so I'm very much looking forward to regaining my sanity with the ride home. One rode over the cuckoo's nest.
7/13/12
Ride Home 7/13: Bastille Eve
Sir, I should have been honest. When you asked me where my button came from, I should have "It's mine. My name is Brian and I write a bike commuter blog called Tales From The Sharrows. It's about my daily commute. I made the buttons to sell to raise money for WABA," instead of telling you that they're from "some guy who blogs his bike ride. Yeah, it's called Tales From The Sharrows. Yes, Tales From The Sharrows." I really don't know what compelled me to fail to disclose the fact that I'm that guy and I feel pretty bad about it. On the off chance that you're reading this, send me an email (talesfromthesharrows@gmail.com) and I'll gladly send you a button as means of an apology for my erratic behavior. I don't know what possessed me to make up the story. Perhaps it was an unwitting homage to Mike Daisey.
Down Massachusetts and the smell of marijuana and an older guy walking on the sidewalk with an untied bowtie hanging off his collar. It was like an episode of Party Down. There are few places along my trip when I'm more concerned about colliding with a car than when the light at Cathedral and Massachusetts turn green and the single file line of cars begins to lurch forward and some drivers make the rightward movement to turn onto southbound Wisconsin Avenue. I've never even had a close call there, so I'm not sure why this particular intersection causes me so much angst. Maybe it's my worry about far too clever, T.S. Eliot fan newspaper headline writers were I to meet my demise there.
Traffic problems near Dupont Circle. For drivers.
I'm ready for the L Street cycle track, mixing zones and all. I need a break from Q. It's boring and harrowing at the same time. Borarrowing, if you will. At least on L there won't be parallel parkers, blocking the bike lane to wait for room to back into their desired parking spots. Ban street parking or allow below-market-rate on-street storage of other stuff. Like refrigerators. Or gas grills. Why should limit what kind of practical devices are allowed to be stored in public? I'd pay 35 dollars a year for a sticker to put some patio furniture on the street in front of my house. Or maybe a seesaw. Urban seesaw storage is rough. This will be my platform when I run for mayor. Seesaws 2012.
I might have gotten a bit competitive with a guy on a mountain bike on 11th street. He inched in front of me and then I sped past him and then he cut to the front of the queue while I waited and then I passed him on the left (maybe by riding in the wrong lane. sorry!) while he waited in queue. This was monumentally stupid.
Then I lied, then I biked up the hill and then I biked to the grocery store, where I purchased a baguette and some Newcastle. Kentucky Avenue seems like a prime location for sharrows.
[Fourth-ish wall alert: The Official Wife tells me there's an abandoned bike (locked) by the Foggy Bottom Metro. It's pretty. It's a green stepthrough with a wicker basket, currently housing an empty can of Natty Light and an old Starbucks cup. It's been there maybe a month. Can someone please rescue it? DDOT? MPD? What's the process whereby we can get this bike into the hands of someone who will actually use it? Is there a bike foster system? Anyway, the Official Wife has been keeping tabs on it and she wants it to find a forever home, like they do for puppies]
I had some trouble figuring out how to get back on my bike with a baguette sticking out of my pannier. I tried to swing my leg around over the bread, but that didn't work. Sacre bleu! And then I went around to the other side and did the same thing and I might've pulled something. Hazards of the bike commuter. Only boules from now on.
D to 15th to A. There was a line outside of the pretzel place. There was no line outside of the liquor store or dry cleaners or the carryout or the barber shop. People just love pretzels and hate alcohol and starched shirts and subs and haircuts, I guess.
Have a neat weekend. I'm gonna spend some of mine at Target.
Down Massachusetts and the smell of marijuana and an older guy walking on the sidewalk with an untied bowtie hanging off his collar. It was like an episode of Party Down. There are few places along my trip when I'm more concerned about colliding with a car than when the light at Cathedral and Massachusetts turn green and the single file line of cars begins to lurch forward and some drivers make the rightward movement to turn onto southbound Wisconsin Avenue. I've never even had a close call there, so I'm not sure why this particular intersection causes me so much angst. Maybe it's my worry about far too clever, T.S. Eliot fan newspaper headline writers were I to meet my demise there.
Traffic problems near Dupont Circle. For drivers.
I'm ready for the L Street cycle track, mixing zones and all. I need a break from Q. It's boring and harrowing at the same time. Borarrowing, if you will. At least on L there won't be parallel parkers, blocking the bike lane to wait for room to back into their desired parking spots. Ban street parking or allow below-market-rate on-street storage of other stuff. Like refrigerators. Or gas grills. Why should limit what kind of practical devices are allowed to be stored in public? I'd pay 35 dollars a year for a sticker to put some patio furniture on the street in front of my house. Or maybe a seesaw. Urban seesaw storage is rough. This will be my platform when I run for mayor. Seesaws 2012.
I might have gotten a bit competitive with a guy on a mountain bike on 11th street. He inched in front of me and then I sped past him and then he cut to the front of the queue while I waited and then I passed him on the left (maybe by riding in the wrong lane. sorry!) while he waited in queue. This was monumentally stupid.
Then I lied, then I biked up the hill and then I biked to the grocery store, where I purchased a baguette and some Newcastle. Kentucky Avenue seems like a prime location for sharrows.
[Fourth-ish wall alert: The Official Wife tells me there's an abandoned bike (locked) by the Foggy Bottom Metro. It's pretty. It's a green stepthrough with a wicker basket, currently housing an empty can of Natty Light and an old Starbucks cup. It's been there maybe a month. Can someone please rescue it? DDOT? MPD? What's the process whereby we can get this bike into the hands of someone who will actually use it? Is there a bike foster system? Anyway, the Official Wife has been keeping tabs on it and she wants it to find a forever home, like they do for puppies]
I had some trouble figuring out how to get back on my bike with a baguette sticking out of my pannier. I tried to swing my leg around over the bread, but that didn't work. Sacre bleu! And then I went around to the other side and did the same thing and I might've pulled something. Hazards of the bike commuter. Only boules from now on.
D to 15th to A. There was a line outside of the pretzel place. There was no line outside of the liquor store or dry cleaners or the carryout or the barber shop. People just love pretzels and hate alcohol and starched shirts and subs and haircuts, I guess.
Have a neat weekend. I'm gonna spend some of mine at Target.
Ride In 7/13: Han Solo Duet
Friday Coffee Club isn't so much a club as it is a lifestyle. And it's not so much a lifestyle as it is a bunch of people sitting around and drinking coffee, as the name mostly suggests. I think it's the Club part that throws people off, so in the name of public service, I've put together a a list of frequently asked questions.
Pretty swift ride through the normally slow parts and I feel like it's always and any summer morning when it's not 90 degrees feels like a bonus lately. I think that weather is only a secondary issue when it comes to bike commuting (the primary one being the interplay of infrastructure/safety, the tertiary one being fear of running over squirrels and their bushy tails), but it's nice to not to have to ride through extreme heat and uncomfortableness. Not much beats riding a bike in good weather.
Q. Can anyone join Friday Coffee Club?
A. Yes. Even fictional people. And fictional animals. And mythological people/animals. In fact, I split a muffin with a centaur this morning.
UPDATED: Q. Where is it? When is it?
A. It's at M.E. Swing's at 17th and G, NW. It's on Friday morning from roughly 7:30 (allegedly) to 9-ish.
Q. What if I don't like bikes and hate coffee?
A. Then you're weird. But you can still come. All are welcome. And it's a free country. For now.
Q. Do you have matching satin jackets with the name of the club written in cursive on the back?
A. Not yet.
Q. Do I have to be a witty conversationalist and/or a good listener?
A. It would help, but it's not strictly necessary. For example, I am neither of those things. You can do what I do by nodding very compellingly and insisting you just need "one more cup" and then you'll have something interesting to say.
Q. Is the first rule of Friday Coffee Club not to talk about Friday Coffee Club?
A. No. It's probably the most over-tweeted, over-photographed meeting of a dozen or so people in all of Washington. Other than a Supreme Court decision. Also, CNN reports that Friday Coffee Club is held on Saturdays.
Q. Why do you even do Friday Coffee Club? Can't I just drink coffee at home?
A. Because drinking coffee with cool people is fun. And because being late for work on a Friday coffee is some sort of protest for DC statehood or something.
Q. I'm a rich billionaire and I'd like to sponsor Friday Coffee Club. To whom should I make out this giant check?
A. Please email talesfromthesharrows@gmail.com and do not tell anyone else. I promise to share. Sure.
I rode East Capitol, then rounded the Capitol, took Penn by storm (where I saw Nicole and Vince [and his shameful lack of fenders] riding up 4th from SW), galavanted up 15th, darted across the White House plaza and shimmied across 17th. But before I did the shimmying, this happened.
 |
| Don't stimy my shimmy, yo. |
You, sir, are frightfully close to me. I was there first, patiently waiting for the light to change. He stepped in front. I got shoaled by a pedestrian.
After "da club" as no one ever calls it, I rode back over to 15th street and then up that-away, taking care to avoid careless pedestrians who can't but help walk into the cycle track and get indignant over the fact that bicyclists are in this space. It'd be like my riding my bike down train tracks and harrumphing at the arrival of the Acela. The cycle track is for bikes! That's why it's there! There are bikes painted on the pavement in the cycle track! There are not pictures of guys in mismatched business casual and iPod headphones!
Sacrificial Lamb Kabobs and Wraps. Pass it every morning. Have never eaten there. Great name.
Some extra sand on Massachusetts Avenue. Either this is washed up from the recent storm or they're opening another Beach Bar.
 |
| Worst beach bar ever. |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)