Some cyclists around these parts have taken to wearing fancy bike caps on Tuesday. They cleverly call it Bicycle Cap Tuesday. I have only one bicycle cap. I picked it up at Bike Virginia in 1991. It is, how can I put this, scuzzy. I only wear it as a last resort in pouring rain to keep water out of my eyes.
|If you see this man on a bike trail, don’t laugh as you pass him.|
Lately, I have eschewed wearing my bike helmet. (Do I get points for using the word “eschew” in a bike commuting blog? Indubitably.) Instead I have been wearing a baseball cap. Most of my ball caps are pretty clean so I have been wearing my official 2004 Red Sox Championship cap. It has a little holographic sticker to prove its authenticity. I’d never be caught dead in an unauthentic Red Sox cap. I have worn it so much that it is almost as scuzzy as my Bike Virginia cap. Its best feature is the smug smile I get while wearing it and riding past people in Yankee caps (which I did on my way home tonight).
|Click on picture. Grab magnifying glass. See the ducklings?|
On the way in to work I stopped and took a picture of the ducklings near the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge. My siblings tend to be naturally gifted photographers and golfers. My utter lack of talent in both areas raises the specter of me being the offspring of Mike the mailman. I am also the only math geek in the family (or was until I passed my math mental peak at the age of 23). I understand our mailman was awesome with differential equations.
I felt pretty good this morning after yesterday’s ride in the heat and humidity. Except I had no oomph in my legs at all today. Later in the day I felt a little woozy, so the ride home was a crawl. It’s pretty sad when you are riding a huge long wheel base recumbent and everybody and I mean EVERYBODY is passing you. Ah, but they did.
When I arrived at home my son, back from five days of vacationing at various posh homes of college buddies, announced that “his” car leaks gas whenever he fills it up. “His” car needs to go in to get this fixed. Tomorrow I do a modified utilitaire bike commute. I drive the car to the dealer in Alexandria and ride to work from there. The dealer is on a big hill near Fairlington so the ride back to the garage is sure to be a workout. The Mule will get the call because I don’t want to muck about with Big Nellie on the back of a compact car at rush hour.
I’m not looking forward to tomorrow’s commute.