Trail Bail

Here’s a thought. You get so mad when I’m not utilizing the trail. Unfortunately the trail speed limit is 15mph.

It has come to my attention that DC drivers rarely have the opportunity to travel at speeds greater than 15mph. In fact oftentimes you all drive under 5mph.

I’m willing to share. Feel free to drive on the trail. I mean sometimes you guys drive on the sidewalk; go on, take the trail. Remember 15 mph and you still have to yield to pedestrians.

We’ll take the road. You take the trail. Let me know how that works out. I mean you always want to know why we aren’t on it. Figure out how to get to work and the store and a doctor’s appointment… hell get me a bikable google map.

Have fun.

Enjoy The View

The worst offenders are always in the park. The scenic park. Perhaps it's the existence of a bike trail? To me that's like apples and oranges. Sidewalks versus trails. I don't hike on a sidewalk and I certainly ain't waiting for a bus in the forest.

It was Rock Creek. Non Rush. Not that it matters. No side trail. NOT THAT IT MATTERS.

Yet there it was, from behind, like always, the all too familiar *#honk!@* Oh really? You don't say. When, without pause, as if it were premeditated and expected, I removed my weapon from its holster and armed myself to shoot.

A van passed. I took aim and took my shot. Wrong vehicle. My bad. I bet it's this one nudging me into the forest. Me on the line, him in his lane as if a vulnerable, innocent human being weren't balancing on the non existent white line.

"Dumb Shit!" out the window as his side mirror grazes my bag. "Say Cheese!" I think as I snap Exhibit A. He never slowed, never yielded, caught in my digital pixel.

A third car passes, gently, but not without commentary. An arm extends from the passenger side window. "You too?" I'm just trying to turn in my paperwork to get my Share The Road license plates, which apparently I need on my bicycle. Please!

But wait! As I'm weighing my finger retaliation options I notice a thumb. He's not flipping me off he's applauding my effort! Thumbs up for the picture taking pixie. Back at you buddy, thanks for the support!

For the record this isn't a joy ride, it's my commute. And this ain't Utrecht! Build me a trail network and we'll talk. Currently it's like a fish without a bicycle. Until then if you aren't on the beltway, enjoy the view.

Sister Hazy

And how dare you not remember?
And how dare you walk away?

And I wanted you so much
Just like I do right now
I wanted us to be the one
The poets write their books about

I wanted it to last
I wanted to grow old
But life got in the way


What's a biker to do, but roll with it

CAReFREE

Timbuk2 and Beyond!

News To Me

13 and a half years ago I plopped myself down in a chair in front of a monitor and 6 tiny teevees. I had 6 red plungers that lit up when I mashed them as some unseen voice beckoned, “ROLL”.

Sitting back in my tiny, black cove swallowing the day’s news was challenging. Story after story, face after face. When I went home at night and closed my eyes I could still see a 2 ½ inch version of the missing girl of the week.

Names like Shaquita Bell, Joyce Chiang, Caity Mahoney, Sophia Silva, and Kristin and Katie Lisk still hang in my broadcast cache. Serial killing was hot that year. Andrew Cunanan and Richard Evonitz claimed more than their allotted 15 minutes of fame.

“Two boys in 1999 walked into their high school heavily armed emptying countless shells along the way dropping classmates like flies. Columbine, Paducah, Mississippi, Georgia, Nickel Mines, VaTech.

Brazill, Tate, Mangum, Abraham. “These kids committed crimes that were brutal…that doesn’t make them adults. It just makes us wish they were—and wish we could lock them up forever and forget them.”

The Capitol shooting, Holocaust museum, Muhammad and Malvo. "Be still and know that I am God." Sarah Ramos, Conrad Johnson, Premkumar Walekar, Sonny Buchanan, Lori Rivera, Pascal Charlot, Linda Franklin, Dean Meyers, Kenneth Bridges. Iran Brown.

September 11th. Hurricane Katrina. Princess Diana. Monica Lewinski. OJ Simpson. 2000 Election. Part II. Saddam Hussein. Afghanistan, Iraq. What’s that terrorist’s name? The first black President.

Abortion, gay rights, stem cells, torture, corruption, domestic violence, hate crimes, cancer, aids. Olympic Bombing, Elizabeth Smart, Jonbenet, Annika in PGA, Larry Craig, Martha Stewart ex-con.

Joe Gibbs, Pettibon, Norv Turner, Robiskie, Schottenheimer, Steve Spurrier, Gibbs, Zorn. Hike.

Black Oscars, Janet’s Super Bowl nipple, Ellen’s gay, Greta Van Susteren’s new face. Dan Rather steps down, Walter Cronkite dies, Jay Leno leaves. Lance Wins Seven, Chastain Bears Bra, Granato Grabs Gold, WNBA Forms, WUSA Folds.

Johnny Carson, Jack Paar, Charles Schulz, Hanna of Barbera, Peter Jennings, Mother Theresa, Pope John Paul II, Ronald Reagan, Michael Jackson, Ray Walston, Dave Thomas, David Brinkley, Yasser Arafat, Christopher Reeve, Maude, The Joker, Johnnie Cochran, Ossie Davis, Bernie Mac, James Brown, Rosa Parks, Coretta Scott King, Anna Nicole, Kurt Vonnegut, Tammy Faye, Pavarotti, Charlton Heston, Patrick Swazye, Teddy Kennedy, Alice Swanson.

What Strays In Texas Stays In Texas

I don’t cheat, not even at solitaire. I mean I’m not much of a mono-anything…monotonous, monotheistic, monophobe, monodactyl, monogamous…

Well, there was this one time at RAAM camp…But that was one time, one instant, somewhere in the middle of Texas. It was 108 degrees; it wasn’t my fault. But typically I'm pretty faithful.

Imagine my surprise when a complete stranger propositioned me. There I was sweaty and wet, helmet head no doubt, looking pretty ragged and he wants to take me to bed? What’s a girl to think? Do I or don’t I?

I was flattened, well, almost. There he was at a side street, me on a heavily traveled, slightly congested road; you may have thought he didn’t even see me. Oh, that’s what I thought.

So when he pulled out in front of me so close I could spit in his open window, I yelled, “HI!” And you won’t believe this, he said, “HI,” back! I know!

I don’t know, maybe it was me; maybe I hit on him first. I DID initiate the conversation. He certainly TRIED to hit on me. And he flashed his hecock feathers and flirted across the street…two lanes of traffic, horns honking. I threw him one more line, “You are pulling out in front of me!”

That’s when it happened. Those two little words a lonely girl longs to hear…”FUCK YOU!” Isn’t he sweet? How romantic.

Katyak

OH! I didn't think you'd really want to keep

jbugs out with a cockpit cover, but now I get it!

Katyak: yeah, it's like that.

Mettle

I am not a religious person, but I am spiritual. Be assured there is no Church in this state. I won’t preach my case, I’ll simply say my god has but a wee g.

-Wee g. Teehee, insert unintentional laugh here. Wee-g. haha-

I believe in energy. I can express it through color. I believe it interacts with other energy and creates life. Some call this karma. Some fate. But you do have control.

It also interacts with street lights. I turn them off a lot, A LOT. I don’t think this is good. Perhaps my energy level is low or bad and it sucks the energy right out of the lamp. Lately I’ve turned a few on, but additionally I’ve turned more off.

I feel like my energy is yellow, but it needs to be orange. Orange is change. It also feels a little blue, light blue, and that is a good thing.

I might not have a job, but I will always tuck myself into my own bed every night. Not everyone does. A man came up to me tonight and asked for spare change.

“Brother, all I got is change.”

5 Sets 3 Operators

Even machines will fail.
grrrr

Keep Yer Feet Offa Our Street

Hell NO, Walking's SLOW! The overwhelming message painting the lawns of this anti-green street: Not In Our Neighborhood.

We don't want your fat kids sweating 'round our yard. Keep your pup's unmentionables out our hood. Bring your stinking 'hicles and drive as fast as you like; we don't encourage pedestrian activity and we don't aim to hide it.

We don't have sidewalks, speed bumps, slow humps, tables, or stripes. Sick of hitting pedestrians in crosswalks? No worries...we ain't got none. Come to town and mow 'em down. Law's on your side.

Go on and stick that foot up our asphalt, cuz we ain't budgin' our precious lawns. And we sure ain't shovelin' no sidewalks.

ADA be damned. Sidewalk Smidewalk Assurance Act my ass. Keep your concrete offa our feet! We pay a lot of money for our nicely manicured lawns. You can stick your stimulus up someone else's grass!

Peripheral Angel

Git your shit and git out.

That dude is wearing an armchair as a helmet. I'm just noticing. I'm just saying. He really is. No joke. In case you missed it.

Which brings up a brilliant point in these tough economic times. What do we bike commuters do when our bosses herd us into their offices at completely random times in our lives and hand us the proverbial pink slip, which by the way is no longer pink nor a slip as times turn green.

How do we gather our clothes, our tupperware, our boxes of contacts and photos and notes from our nieces, not to mention our egos, and sling them upon our backs to pedal our teary eyes home after learning the fate of our carefully crafted careers??

If only we all had a guardian angel to run along side us making sure we continue on straight without running ourselves right off the path or into another biker. Because it's hard to see with tears in your eyes and an armchair on your head. I would suspect.

Although perhaps, it's not necessarily a good idea to start removing office furniture in order to make up for the lost wages. I'm just saying, merely mentioning, offering friendly advice...

Itsa

Look it's a car, no it's the moon, no silly it's a biker. I have no idea what it was; too much light makes the biker go blind.

There is too much of a good thing. If you just let your eyes adjust to the dark you can see just fine. The moon IS full. It's bright outside, really.

But if your headlamp is blinding me you aren't being very polite. I can't see I tell you! Great for you. But what do you think that does to a motorist? Do you really want to blind someone driving a car directly at you?? Did you think this through when you had to have the biggest, brightest, 'best' light?

And let's talk about the walkers. You know 'em. They are the ones that let you have it in the daylight. That yell and lecture about yelling LEFT. They speak of not knowing you are there and how they want to be alerted to your presence...

Hmmm....and do you think they thought that through as they meandered through the darkness ?? As I barrel down the dimly lit path into on coming waaaaaalkers! YIKES!

Sorry....LEFT you for dead in the middle of the path, I hope they can find your dark clothed ass. You should really carry a bell.