HOT Lanes

I can read between the lines and it says BIKE!  Maybe this is old news, but I've been on vacation.  Right there down the center of my commute is a brand new spanking bike lane!  So new it doesn't even say bike lane yet.

At first I thought I was mistaken.  But it's striped, newly striped, from the top of the hospital to the bottom of the hill.  Right there on the dangerous part of my commute, right outside the ER.  Holy Cross Batman! A lane just for me.  Me and all the other bikers.

Maybe that CYCLE sign really was for motors and pedals alike.  This is a much needed addition, a welcome change.  First the lights were timed differently, now this!  What the hell is going on?!?

There I was trying to be cranky about my miserable day and the most amazing day of the year silently crept up on me!  Silver Spring is showing the bike love!  What's next?  A bike rack at the gym?  Yeah, I know, probably NOT.  That's okay, I'm still grrlcotting them.

But thanks for the lanes!  And the lights.

Not Enough Cents

I have my moments.  This was one of them. I hadn't the sense to come in out of the rain, so the saying goes.  Really.

The thing about rain on a bike is, you get wet.  Really wet.  Really, really wet.  It attacks from above and below.  And this was one of those rains.

Oh, you think I'm kidding.  Take a look at that picture.  That is what your phone looks like as it's about to fritz.  It didn't exactly die right there in my hand, but it might as well had.

It rained so hard...how hard was it? 

Ha, it rained so hard it turned my phone into a vibrator. No more calls, no more texts, no more pix.  Perfect.  What I needed was a phone, what I got was a no frill, cheap thrill, sex toy. I always thought the wet part came last.  The first pun was intended, the second accidental.

With a phone that did nothing but vibrate, I searched for a public pay phone.  They are obsolete dinosaurs now you know.  Back in the day I always kept a dime in my shoe.  Then a quarter in my Roos.  I knew numbers and I had the change to prove it.

But this day left me high and not so dry.  I finally found a pay phone and was itching to use it.  Problem was, after seven separate searches, all I found was forty-six cents.  Four cents shy of the inflated fee for a local call.

I guess I'll just take my vibrator and ride....intended.

LinkedOut

I should have answered those emails about joining LinkedIn. I'm so glad my mom brought me a small pump to carry in my trusty side pocket today.  That should fix everything.

Except maybe a broken chain link.  What am I gonna do, blow air at it!?  YES, my chain broke.  There I was skipping over a stormy rock garden when *PING* like a hamster on a wheel...  Not a toothbrush in sight.

This is the second time I've scared a chain right off a bike.  The third will come later today... A friend told me a vice grip will get them back on, but not so much off.  It's all good...I can get them off *PING*,  I'm just not so good with back on.

Color me fantastic!  I actually had a chain tool with me on the trail.  What are the odds?  Oddly enough, no allen wrench...again.  I didn't guess I'd need it to change a flat, I had no idea I'd be performing an emergency chainlinkectomy right there on Stony Trail.

I quickly surveyed my surroundings and made a mental inventory of supplies.  I considered my teeth more than once, but even the thought made my root canal ache.  I tried a tire lever, like that's gonna fix anything.  A stick.  But the darn chain tool ain't gonna twist without an allen wrench.

Don't think I didn't consider dental floss.  I thought, if only I could tie the links back together...just to get back to camp. A tube.  Those chainless bikes are looking a whole lot more appealing right about now.  If only I had duct tape, that cures everything.

Thanks to a well marked map, I quickly bailed on the trail and hoofed it on the street.  That way I at least had the downhills.  And boy, did I coast them like it was my job and I worked on commission!  I blew right past my family parked at the trail head.

The day didn't go exactly as I planned.  A little later on we'd be playing a new version of an old classic...Dude Where's My Car Keys? At least I can push my bike when it's not running.

How many links do you think I can remove before it's too short? Four and still counting...

Grunge Grrl's Version Of F@*# Me Pumps

Previously....there was mention of a blown tire, questionable air pressure, and a savior pump in some bag....

All dressed up with somewhere to go.  There I was with my 'don't shoot me tires'...really, please don't shoot my tires!  Been there, done that, don't have a pump.

What did I say about should?  That pump that should have been in my commuter bag was not.  And my options are now this:  don't ride.  Not.  Strap a floor pump onto my camelbak and head out to the trail.  Pause for mental image. Perhaps Not.  Make like I'm 10 and just go.  Done. 

What do I always say...never camp, bike, or boat alone.  Well, I'll be sitting here waiting another year if I wait for that! What could go wrong, really? It's a holiday weekend, there are tons of people on the trail.  If I need help I'll just ask.

I've got the tube, tire levers, tools....I can change the tire I just need to stop someone for a pump.  Or use my pen casing to blow the air into the tube directly.  I've seen it whisk patients away from a flat line on TeeVee, surely it can revive a simple flat.

Turns out none of that stuff made it in my pack.  Oops.  I had a pen and a knife. I could either carve petroglyphs in the pine trees depicting the saga of my ill fated trek...or Specialized as the bike may be (should something happen) or I could take notes for my blog, on my arm.

OR perform a tracheotomy, should the occasion arise...maybe in exchange for a pump?

KAPLOOEY

THAT is definitely not a snake bite.  Definitely NOT.  THAT is a full blown blow out.  For reals.  That tear is longer than my femur!

You should have heard it go.  Maybe you did?  There are rumors they heard it all the way in Japan.  Thought it was a nuke. My neighbors had no idea what it was.  Maybe a drive by?

Sounded just like a shotgun to the temple.  Well, I assume that's what it might sound like.  I've never had a shotgun to the temple.  I don't know maybe you don't even have time to register a sound like that before, you know...

So I was getting ready for my next big adventure and decided it was time for the noticeable red tires.  They were free, mine were shot, the price was right.  I wasn't overly keen about turning my bike into Ronald McDonald but did I mention they were free?

I changed them out, repumped the tires, and let it sit.  In the sun.  Getting hot.  Expanding air.  KAPOW.  (And not the yummy thai dish I'm crazy about.) Now in my defense, it shouldn't have happened.  According to the gauge I was well within range.  On the high side for me but still around 50 PSI.

Should and did are the stuff blogs are made of.  So they should have been fine, but they did blow up.  Must be the pump.  The tires did feel overly inflated at a mere 50 PSI, but just to be safe I'm going well under this time.  Don't need them blowing  up on the freeway doing 75mph.  (On top of the car silly, not on the bike! geesh.)

I thought I might double check with my fancy car gauge, but as it turns out even with the adapter the gauge  doesn't actually engage the presta tip.  Maybe my portable pump?  That has a nifty gauge attached.  Well, I'll check it at the campsite, it should be in my bag.

This is what writers call foreshadowing...go on you should really keep reading the blog...
TO BE CONTINUED....

Pile of Beans

We've been making the rounds in the bullying badgering blogs again.  Breaking news....the drivers still hate us.  They hate the traffic AND the solution.  They are just angry; there is no solution.

So they attack us.  Because they can.  I'm not sure if or how it helps.  But I'm learning how to ignore it.  It's rather easy when it lacks sense.

Have you heard about one in ten?  It's a term used to describe homosexuals.  You know, one in ten people...well you can figure it out.  My point is that's 10%.

Now I just read on one of these bully the biker blogs (and it's on the Internet so it must be true) that bikers only make up 1% (of what I'm not exactly sure).  And I was thinking if one in ten is gay and one in one hundred is a biker, then someone is clearly LYING.

Think about it.  1% of road users are bikers?  Just ONE PERCENT?  Are you sure?  The economy is in the toilet.  Jobs are hard to come by.  Brick and mortars are closing.  Small businesses are failing.  And there are over 15 bike shops INSIDE the beltway. 

Christ on a Kestrel...another one of those headache causing word problems.  Tell me how you get one percent?  Wouldn't some of those shops be bankrupt?  Who is spending money in a bike shop if not cyclists?  That's a whole lot of Energy Beans fueling 15 shops. Or a handful of cyclists frequenting a shit ton of shops.

I believe maybe 1% drive Arks.  Oh and LOOK, you can stash them at the Whole Foods in Georgetown, perfect!

Lunch Seen

Cutie Patootie

I see you're single....CALL ME.

Can We SAY It Was Terrorism

I had the silly notion to drive today.  To save time.  That's the funny part.  Driving to save time. 

If car C leaves the home at 7AM and bike B also leaves the home at 7AM what time do they both pull into the station?  Exactly 4 minutes apart.  That's the answer, 4 minutes.

What's 4 minutes get you?  FAT.  Sure, I saved 4 whole minutes, but got zero work out.  So essentially I LOST 40 minutes. Grand.  I was never good at word problems.

It's cool, it's been a long day.  I'm deliriously tired.  Not a good idea to teeter on two wheels to get home.  I thought I might get a nap today.  That's also why I drove.  Sleeping on a bike makes sleeping in a car feel like bunking at the Venetian (minus the second floor).

I knew it was going to be a long, hard day.  In the business we have our tip offs.  This morning I quickly noticed the hovering helicopters circling the city, like guard dogs.  Us TV geeks are tuned into that. Oh man, that isn't a good sign, I thought.  Must hurry to work.

For a city known for its terrorism, I couldn't help but notice all the cars still moving TOWARD the impending danger.What is wrong with these people?  Have they not had enough drama in the workplace?

Turn around!  Go home young man!  Run.  Flee. Be Free.  Don't you see those helicopters dotting the horizon?  There beneath the clouds.  The F16s are probably just above, waiting for word.  To attack.  The copters watching patiently, perched on the edge of the city like....oh, right, n.e.v.e.r.m.i.n.d....

Us TV geeks sent them there.  Traffic choppers.  Right.  Of course. That's all it was.  Every day, ordinary, morning activities.  Things I usually sleep through.  Here I thought it was terrorists coming to destroy our day, and disrupt our lives, and cripple our city.  Roger that.

The copters dangling in the sky like a participle.  Like a Miami-Dade chiding chad. Shooting menacing, gruesome pictures of a typical morning commute.  Like you haven't already seen it.  Like you want to see it right before you walk out the door.  Like you won't see enough of it sitting in it. Thanks for that!

EMERGENCYCLE

Drunk Dude in the road will jump out in front of you and scream at you.  I guess all that didn't fit on the sign.  USE CAUTION does cover it, but I thought they meant the grooved pavement.  I was somewhat unprepared for Drunk Dude.

"Call 911 Sir, I've just been assaulted"  Now it was my turn to do something.  And I swerved and pedaled on.  No, I never looked back.  This wasn't a comatose guy on a tricycle.  I did nothing.

He was lunging into the street demanding I take action.  Now I'm not up on my liquor bouquets, but I strongly believe that basenote was octane.  Or at least flammable.  And he didn't appear assaulted, but I'm no expert.

Lucky for him those guys on the right are.  I hate to point out the obvious, oh who are we kidding I LOVE that, you might actually get a quicker response on your left.  There, that brightly lit building...I'm fairly certain it's open.  And I bet they have phones.  They might even have a direct line, bypassing 911 altogether.

Yes, there, that one, the one that says HOSPITAL.  Really.  If you go around to the side they can dial 911.  In fact, if you were truly assaulted, they are uber trained for that.  There, under the EMERGENCY sign, the doors should open when you walk up.  You may have to wait, but the phone call, immediate.  Best of Luck.

Tally Whoa!

I don't mean to be picky, but this is getting ridiculous.  I got off the trail, tried to enter the roadway, and was pushed up on the sidewalk.  Traffic.  I found traffic in my lane.  FACING ME.  Since when did Chevy Chase become Jolly Ole England??

I was recently attacked, perhaps you saw it, on my own facebook page by a friend claiming I was 'one of those bike commuters'.  And by those, I think I mean always wrong.  Everyone else is always right, but bikers are typically always in the wrong.

So yesterday, I was almost broadsided by a hummer who failed to completely stop at the four way stop that I had just stopped at and wrongly continued through.  Last night a car at a stop light turned right into me without choosing to use a turn signal.  I wrongly assumed it was going straight.  Then I almost got hit by a silent ambulance screaming through an intersection.  I wrongly assumed green means go.  And then today I was run off the road by a black vehicle of which I was unable to obtain the plate number on because did I mention I WAS BEING RUN OFF THE ROAD.  I wrongly assumed we were sharing it.

Then, I wound up in England.  Say what?  I don't think I need to point out these cars were on the wrong side of the road.  But I stand corrected.  They were forced to use this side of the roadway thanks to one of 'those bike riders' blocking the other side.

It's true, there on the other side was a guy on a bike sitting in the middle of the road.  Just sitting there.  Blocking traffic.  The nerve of him.  And so who can blame these poor drivers trying to rush into their neighborhood and into the safety of their plushly furnished homes??  Of course they had to drive on the other side.  How would they get home?

The guy.  Still sitting there.  I counted five cars as I rode past on the sidewalk.  Five cars drove on the wrong side of the road into their neighborhood to evade the inconsiderate, arrogant biker taking up an entire lane of their street.

No one seemed to notice or mind that he wasn't moving.  Oh, I guess they probably noticed he wasn't moving his bicycle, but he himself wasn't moving.  Not his feet, not his hands, not his head, not even his eyes as far as I could tell.

The bike, it was an adult tricycle.  No one I know rides one of these because they want to; they have to.  This signals to me that maybe the man has some type of physical or mental ailment or handicap.  And there he sat on a tricycle, in the middle of the street, not moving, ALONE.  And no one bothered to question this, they just drove around instead.

Really?  A handicapped man on an adult tricycle....and no one recognized him?  In a neighborhood.  Tell me do you think he was out training for a century and just got tired?  I don't suspect he could have been far from home.  And yet no one stopped.  And I'm inconsiderate!

Someone finally did.  Someone blocked traffic for him and eventually got out of his car to investigate.  I suppose everyone else was too busy, or in a rush to get home to watch The Talk on CBS.  I can only hope someone was dialing 911 at the very least. 

BOO!

I take back what I said about cameras.  If I had had one mounted on my bars today I wouldn't have behaved any better and I might have had some good video.

Today was carfree day in DC and to that I say, Bring Back the Cars.  I am entirely safer swallowed by vehicular metal.  The sea of walking flesh another story entirely.

Let's cut past the chase (and the boats, right? they should really be more specific when labeling an event 'car'free).  Today, I hit my first pedestrian.  WHAT!?!  Pedestrian.  Hit. My. What, you know he deserved it.  My ex says people can think for themselves.  She thinks intelligence still runs rampant.  I think it was phased out somewhere in the 90s.  And today I may have proved it. 

I know there's some law about pedestrians in crosswalks, but tell me you haven't wanted to hit one or two or ten.  And depending on how tight he was in his loafers I technically may have not even pinched his skin, but I most definitely scuffed his fancy footwear. 

Yes, he was in the crosswalk, I think we established that, but I had the green light.  There were tons of them crossing against the light.  You know you hate it.  I hate it more. Howard students, these are even the brighter ones.  Maybe not so much.  HUH?  Ex-act-ly.

I scooted behind him and at the last second he picked his head up out of his hand.  Of course he was texting.  And not looking.  And walking.  In traffic.  Just like our mothers taught us.  And in an effort to prove my ex decidedly wrong, he then 'decided' to change directions and step back INTO me.  Would now be a good time to point out the phones are smart, the owners, not so much.

I slammed on the brake and wiped half my tire across 7th Street.  I kept the bike upright, barely, as the offender quietly backed up on the sidewalk, where his fellow co-eds were laughing.  At me or him?  Who knows, but I hope the treads I left on his shoe remind him to look up every now and again. It's the Hamburger Generation.

Yes, Deer

Be a Hero, Not a Zero.  Who wants to watch video of a bike commute?  It's boring, mostly.  And long.  Tree, tree, goose.

If I'm mounting a camera on my helmet or handlebars, I want something to happen.  Anything.  Shoulder brushes, swerving lushes, "GET OFF THE ROAD" cusses.  Something.

Without, it's an uneventful hour of a straight, white line.  Yawn.  Boring. BooTube.  I can count the hits now, ZERO.

I'm just skeptical, that's all I'm saying.  Tape can lie.  Video can be taken out of context, edited, skewed to fit a need.  Trust me television does it all the time.  And I'm not saying it doesn't happen, the bad things to bikers...they do.

We are run off the road, cursed, bumped, intimidated, harassed.  Bumper Bullying should be outlawed.  It's dangerous.  This isn't shoving a pimple-headed pubescent in a gym locker.  It's just as adolescent and completely unpunishable.  People, it's a bike and a car...with a life pinned between!

The disregard for life astonishes me sometimes.  Do you hear what you are saying?  But...at least I'm not a deer.  The solution for getting them off the road...Let's SHOOT 'em!  Duck, duck, bush.

Change?

I couldn't help but notice the severe lack of personnel in Vegas. Even Vegas? Yep, it seems even Sin City is not immune from the crumbling economy.

I haven't been to Vegas in about a decade. The sentiment is the same, but boy how times have changed. The buildings come and go, the neon lights still a-glow, but the casinos...much less flow.

10 years ago I slipped in and out of the aisles plunking quarters as I went. Occasionally they hit. $5.00, $25.00, $80.00! I easily dropped as much. I flirted and teased the one armed bandits. They never got the best of me, but they ate up all my change.

Quarter slots ruled the floor. Nickles were big. Pennies rare. Good luck commandeering one of those machines. A 68 year old, leathered skinned, smoked soaked corpse had likely set up base camp with a gin and Misty menthol.

Today, Penny Slots are the rage. At least my rage. They are neither Penny nor Slot. No need for a slot when there's no greed for the penny. It's all about the paper. Redeemable ticket, that is. There's no coins in Vegas, not on the strip. Or change babes, money fillers, or even watchful eyes....they've got cameras for that...oodles of them.

So I left with a pocketful of change. Change I would have otherwise left behind. All tolled, I guess I lost about ten bucks. I was poised to lose a hundred. Oh well. I also only won about 63 cents. Cents? That's not even a character on a keyboard.

Change for the Homeless? That's where all the coins go! Do you take redeemable tickets? Yeah, ten to one I bet you do. And the shows still rob you blind, so you know, they're getting theirs one way or the other.

Hail No, We Won't Go

The Washington area has been hard hit by a bout with Mother Nature. Hail storm, hurricane, tornado, earthshake. Nothing widespread BAD, just Mom Nature being a tease.

I mean, my neighborhood lost a few limbs, but no major trees were down. Basements weren't flooded. No significant damage to speak of. But it did RAIN, ergo, the power went dark.

I can't imagine it was a force of nature. I heard a rumor the electrons simply walked out. In the middle of a storm! Their contract was up and negotiations had been slow and tedious. Upon reaching an impasse, their union rose up and decided to take advantage of the weather to send a clear and direct message to the members, company, and the public.

To make matters worse, in a show of solidarity Freon also walked out. Yeah, you know, the frigid gas: refusing to work...go figure. It's a well known fact they are extremely cold and lacking in ardor; I think they may be making a mistake.

But I guess with the introduction of Tetrafluoroethane the writing is on the wall. With several grievances left unanswered, and the recent development in their negotiations, basically talks went cold, Freon joined the likes of Current and went out on Strike. They too, are at odds with the Company over two main issues, most notably the constant lack of power.

On the flip side, the Company, staying away from the HR nightmare of compaining about their warmth of personality, cites public pressure to protect the environment. Something about a hole in the ozone or some nonesense (according to Freon Sources). But CFCs do endanger the ozone layer of the entire planet, I'm just saying...

Meanwhile back in my freezer, the natural chunk of ice I rescued from the summer hail storm was left to sweat the consequences of the striking labor forces. No power, no Freon, no freeze. I heard Dry Ice is willing to cross the picket line, but fortunately they all got back to work before I had to decide.

American Portrait

....ironically, does not begin with a photograph....

Picture it...I was damn near doored on the way to work today. And...? Yes, yes, on the left. I was almost doored from the LEFT! I was not on the sidewalk and the car was not parked.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you!? You have a brand new baby in the car and you're slamming the fucking door?!!"

I could hear the screaming from the front seat over the door slamming in the back. Oh good, the pill is still regulated, drinking age restricted, and a license still required to operate a motor vehicle--babies, still popping out-- no responsibility necessary.

They do suggest a Mozart concerto for zygotes marinating in the womb. I'm not sure about post-popping, but I'm guessing door slamming is not so soothing to the cooing newborn. But really Mom, let's talk about your relationship with the shouting, cursing asshole in the front seat.

The beauty of the bike is it gives me a personal tour of Americana up close and personal like. And I hate to burst your bubble, but it's not so Norman Rockwellesque. Sometimes...

A few miles away, we have a puppy story, and who doesn't love puppies? In one corner we have Senor Perro Owner, rein in one hand, rein in the other. Two dogs stretched in either direction.

In the other a mirror image of Mademoiselle Chien Owner, leash hand, leash hand, dogs...intermersed and betwixt t'other...

RIGHT FRONT PAW....GREEN!

One Less Cop

I felt like the winner of the Tour de Crescent, except no one shoved a flute of Honest Tea in my hand at the end. The escort--not exactly necessary

I don't mean to be disrespectful, really I'd rather see cops on the trail than not, but don't they have bikes for that? Motor or pedal I'm not overly picky. I just don't feel like we should have to rally for One Less Car on the bike path!

And here I was worried about the deterioration of the plastic on their bike helmets when they leave them in their stifling hot cars. I had no idea they were that 'for show'. FYI, if you're looking for downed trees...you're going the wrong way!

But where were you 'bout a half mile back? Air Rights Tunnel. You've heard of it...can't so much see it, but could have used an escort there. Yeah, it's a wee bit dark.

I got to be someone's Hero...okay, maybe just 'Ro (it wasn't that great). Lights can come in handy, especially after Irene. "we'll just ride behind you".

BreEZy Pass

Yo G'burg Ear Up! There's a new trail in town and it's currently a critical path to nowhere. And it's up to you to make a difference.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened but a multi-use trail sprung up alongside the ICC. Citing financial concerns last I heard it wouldn't be built. But it's there now!

Unfortunately Gaithersburg doesn't care. It's no Rockville. If LAB offered a Bike Friendly Community-COAL award they'd be up for it.

Okay, it's not really that bad, but it's close. There's no noticeable bike routes, the sparsely lain bike lanes are about a foot and half in width, and the cops are pulling over cyclists for riding on the sidewalk. Apparently it's illegal in their city limits.

The ICC is like Gold in a down economy...for drivers and cyclists. It's a flat, straight, uncongested shot from GA to the Pike. As a driver you need an EZ pass to use it, and I can ride it for free. The irony of that is, I would likely pay to use it, it's that cool. But G'burg's gonna have to lane up first!

Business Casual

Really more business than casual. AND kicking my ass! I ain't too proud to put it out there. This chick in 9 to 5 wear and heels cleaned my clock on the CCT.

That's nothing. On the way home I was...going to say neck and neck with a caterpillar...until I considered, "does a caterpillar have a neck??" No matter, I was...S...L...O....W......

Here's the good news: the light at East West? Fixed. No need to push the button anymore, we are back on a regular cycle. Yeehaa. And the light at Georgia? It's unconfirmed but I believe it may have been adjusted so that a regular human being can cross the street safe and legal.

So go ahead lead the way in your heels and chenille...nothing can brake my happy cycle.

Gary Gnu Would Have Done It

What a long and interesting day. It begs an answer to the question: if the earth shakes while you are riding a bamboo frame, would you even feel it? And sadly, I may never know.

I was picking mail up off the floor when it started. It sounded like an attic fan rumbling to a start. I didn't feel a thing. I heard someone saying, "what was that?!?" as I walked around the corner to find my boss straddling the door jamb mumbling something about an earthquake. I heard it in stereo as someone else echoed the sentiment.

And then I definitely felt it as things around me fell to the floor. I still didn't feel the urge to bum rush the doorway, but it seemed important so I did. I would have rather been outside. But I'm afraid I would have missed the whole thing.

What was my very first comment? Really? You have to ask? Something about a night of suck I'm sure. I wonder what it's like to have something like this affect you and just think about YOU. Instead of, I have to get to work, or oh god, I'll be stuck in audio all night, or guess I'm having pizza for dinner....

I have to admit approaching the station and finding a congregation on the curb did make me slightly pause before driving up to the garage door to gain entry. Did I really want to drive into an underground parking garage when the majority of Wisconsin Avenue was standing outside and a 5.8 earthquake just rumbled up the east coast 15 minutes ago? Is this really wise? Necessary, maybe not wise.

I'm finally home, after 7 full hours of news. And I use that term generously. The finials were still damaged at 11:42pm, no new news there. My neighbor described the scene like this: I thought I was having a seizure. Then I looked around and realized everything was having a seizure, it wasn't me.

Parker is fine. Glad to have me home. The earthquake damage is minimal. Not unlike the white chairs on the internet. You see that stick lying on the ground in the picture above? Bottom right. It used to be on the 1x4 above the fireplace. It fell down. That is my earthquake disaster. It might not make the news.

And thank you #Washcycle for finally posting the CaBi map I've been trying to see that all night! No one thought it was a big enough story. That also didn't make the news. Even after 7 hours! I personally think it should have.

Deer Bike Blog:

They are hard to see here, but it's a cute little family. On the right we have momma and two tiny twins. On the left three more little leapers.

In a car I may not have seen any of them. I found the ones on the right after turning around to watch the ones on the left. I've been watching them grow over the weeks.

They are so cute and trusting. The wee baby came right up to me the other night like a little puppy. It really was knee high to a grass hopper. Or 2/3 of a bike wheel, whichever is taller. That's about 460c.

Soon they will become toddlers and then teens. And they really do. Once the boys start getting their racks...teehee...isn't that interesting and somehow odd...so when the boys start developing their racks, they act a little like inner city thugs or maybe richie burbies trying to be inner city thugs.

No, they aren't flash mobbing the local denim store...they usually do that alone and although they do a ton of damage they don't actually steal anything. But the boys all circle up and take turns clashing antlers. It's the most amazing sound. A cool, foggy night, with the echo of deer testosterone bouncing off the trees.

Yeah, it's awful riding in DC after dark...

Racer Profiling

So I hear they are pulling cyclists over for running stop signs now. Deliberately staking out areas in hopes of catching the two-wheeled offenders.

Well, I hope it's not just the two-wheelers. That would be somewhat unfair. What about the four-wheeled infractions? I hope they don't give them a thumbs up and drive on....it's been known to happen when drivers commit wrongs.

I know, I know, NONE of them do it. Drivers don't run stop signs or red lights. If they did the county might start installing cameras to try and catch them.

Take case MD-8DDK11. She failed to come to a complete stop at a stop sign and almost killed me in the process. I think she may have been distracted by the hands on cell phone call she was engrossed in.

Yes, yes, she very well may have employed her turn signal-- I hadn't noticed as I rode for my life around her front bumper (perhaps this is an egregious exaggeration, but makes for a better blog). Regardless, she did indeed finally yield right-of-way.

Technically, I suppose she did stop near the Stop Sign. Does that count?

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I was watching Hoarders last night, you know the show where they turn peoples' homes inside out and then the family goes trailer park on each other over the trash in the yard...

Well, I've only successfully gotten through a handful of episodes. My neighbor tried to turn me on to this show over a year ago and I just can't make it through the whole thing. I have the urge to purge before segment three.

So last night I went upstairs and emptied every drawer, closet, crate, and nook and cranny of cloth I could find and dumped it in the middle of the downstairs floor. I once heard, I think Teri Hatcher, say she has her family clean by removing everything from the room and then taking it back piece by piece.

This is genius! That way you have to WANT to put it back. It doesn't work on Hoarders, but, although that pile overwhelms me, I'm far from landing a spot on TV. It just might work.

Reminds me of a time when I was about 9 years old and my dad got tired of telling me to clean up my playroom. What? That's the play at home version of the trash compactor scene in Star Wars. Go on, get in the closet and push on the walls, now scream out like Chewbacca...

So he took a HUGE snow shovel and relocated everything in the room to the basement. Then he informed me when trash pick up was. I've been good about it since, except for clothes. And maybe bikes.

And the clothes have always been a problem. It might be inherited. But that's not an excuse. My goal is to wear it or pare it. The problem is the wardrobe lifestyles...there's the punk ass biker, emergency business, I work in an ice box, angry lesbian, single white female, runner, climber, sexy fiancee..."I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint...."

A little bird.dog told me girls need clothes. We like variety she said. Cute. This coming from a girl with 27 pairs of cargo khakis (that I can SEE). But look, the grease marks on these look like a monkey, see there's the head.... (bird.dog: this is where you laugh at yourself)

So, I embraced today. Who I am right now. I kept the punk ass, emergency biz, ice box variety and donated the rest. Well....almost. My inner angry lesbian still pokes out every now and again. Next up....SHOES!

Smells Like Lemon

There I was in the backyard just trying to clean my bike, armed with nothin' but a rag and a toothbrush, when it hit me. I mean really hit me. That's right, my chain exploded!

Okay, okay, it came unlinked, she said, as if it were a delicate bracelet with a tricky clasp. It was the chain of a bicycle. I'm just saying.

The unyielding force between you and successfully changing that rear tire yourself. The lifeline between pedals and wheel. The mechanical beast that withstands the constant beating of street and feet...

And I singlehandedly disarmed it with....a soft bristled toothbrush? Have you tried removing a chain? I mean it's not difficult but it does require a specialized tool.

Some shops will add a special link just to forego using a chain tool. But even they, are hard to remove. I am less than successful with the removal of a Quick Link, even after watching the e-How video.

Turns out I was using the wrong tool. It's not Park or Craftsman or even Black and Decker. Oral-B soft. Dentist approved.

I wonder if it works on hubs? Because mine currently feels like someone dumped a box of Grape Nuts in it. Crunchy hub, dismembered chain, loose spoke....maybe it's time for a new mechanic? Then again, this from a girl who cleans her bike with Pledge.

TIny Rocks

A while back, in honor of 7/11 day, the crew got Slurpees. Strike that, the TALENT got Slurpees, and I gotta say they didn't deserve them.

An unmentioned Talent, Fostered *wink* the idea that Slurpees were for kids. She said something like, when's the last time you had one of these...like it had been ages!

Oh, okay. You know what, just because it comes in a fancy cactus glass with cheesy fruit on top, and spiked with a little courage, don't mean it ain't a Slurpee. You can take it out of the paper cup and remove the plastic hat, but it's still just a Slurpee. An Adult Slurpee, but it's really just a straw in some frozen water mixed with sugar and some fake form of fruit. Yep, Slurpee.

They don't typically make your mouth blue but there is a joint locally where you can get a concoction called a Swirlie. That's adult. You can take the toy out of a Happy Meal, but keep your hands off a Tex Mex Swirlie. Frozen, fun, fancy glass, and some come with a tiny umbrella or plastic monkey hanging off the side.

But you're right....Slurpees are for kids. So are Trix, so stop playing them! PS if you buy a $2 kids' drink it can become adult in a flask...I mean flash. I'll take mine virgin thanks, it's this kid's recovery drink of choice. Enjoy your Recoverite old lady.

and This is Not

So there I was on the right. Where you want me to be, doing what you want me to do. And there on the left, a passing driver. Good so far. Careful, slow. Yes, yes...

A dirty mind might wander....fine, fine. Cause I got effinghamed in the end! Well, now that does sound a bit...off.

Back to the slow passing driver, on the LEFT. Who, on a downhill, ever so slowly CUT ME OFF to turn RIGHT. Does this fall under the heading of 'what not to do'?

I don't trust them, so it wasn't even close. If I had been riding at speed it would have been ugly. But you know what, if he had hit me, and got caught, who knows if he would have stopped, he would have said, "I didn't see her". And he would have walked because it was dark. Light or no light.

And then there is the curb over on Connecticut. Yes, that again. Well, I think it's a serious problem and I'm inraged that no one is talking about it! I almost wrecked again....it's too tight, too tall. I know what they are trying to do...get us off our bikes in the crosswalk. To make it safer.

Well you know what?? It would be a shitton safer if the drivers got out of their cars at red lights and stop signs too. Then they could push their cars through before getting in and proceeding...but do you think that is ever gonna happen??