Three Good Things

There’s not much I can do to remove the clots from my lungs and my leg. I just have to take my medicine and wait. Unfortunately the medicine itself can cause big problems. So I have taken some steps to shore up my defenses.

For much of 2017 I rode without a helmet. I hate helmets. So it was a little bit ironic that  I bought a new helmet with the multi-dimensional impact protection system or MIPS. This type of helmet has a plastic liner that moves. The idea is that if you hit your helmet on something your head won’t just smash into the inside of the helmet. Instead the plastic liner will allow your melon to move a bit, reducing (so they say) the chance of a concussion. For me, that might mean reducing the chance of blood building up in my brain – which can be fatal.

Fatal is not good.

Before my bike tour to Florida, I bought an Ortlieb mirror. It was a godsend, especially when I looked at it and saw a dump truck bearing down on me in West Palm Beach. I was about to lose my lane. Instead of proceeding I stopped and the dump truck didn’t. I’d have been toast.

Toast is not good.

So I bought another mirror for my Cross Check which will make riding in traffic around and in DC a bit safer.

My third acquisition is a Road ID. It’s a wrist band with a small metal clip attached. The clip has my name, my wife’s name and phone numbers, and critical medical information: Xarelto, Asthma, and A+, my blood type. In the event that I am unconscious medical professionals will know that I am likely to bleed uncontrollably.

Bleeding uncontrollably is not good.

Three for Safety.JPG
Purple Road ID wrist band, Ortlieb mirror, and MIPS helmet. 

So, it’s all good.

And I Didn’t Even Die

I rode to work today without a helmet on my head. I wore a silly bike hat instead. It was soft. It was comfy. It has a visor on it. Sometimes I pushed the visor up for extra dorkiness.

The weather was pretty close to perfect. I don’t remember much about the ride in except I saw Lawyer Mike roll through the intesection of doom without dying.

The ride home was MOTS. That means More of the Same. (I learned this from a TV weatherman in Boston.) Except it was warmer. And I had a tailwind. And the clouds were puffy. As I rolled south, Chris B rolled north. Hi Chris. He always salutes. Must think I’m the general.

There was a bald eagle at the Belle Haven nest in the morning and in the evening. In Belle Haven Park a little girl on a pink bike with tassles and white tires rolled across the trail in front of me. Oops. I didn’t hit her. She didn’t die.

There are little mole hills (I think) here and there along the trail near Belle Haven Boulevard. I think they are from moles. Whenever I think of moles, I think of Superman. The old black and white TV show. I loved that show. I always wondered why Superman ducked when the bad guys threw their empty pistols at him.

I stopped at the Tulane nest. There was a big bald eagle looking away from me toward the river. I took some pictures but my camera doesn’t have enough zoom on its lens. The nest is harder to see with each passing day.

I made it home. Without a helmet. I didn’t even die.