Last night’s bike ride exposed a few minor problems with my dear bicycle. N. came over this afternoon to help readjust the handlebars, fix the seat, and realign the back wheel after my silly fall the other day. A little bike maintenance goes a long way. After enjoying a ride to C.’s for dinner and Olympic Pageantry, I headed home, meaning to go straight to bed. But the weather was perfect–a crispy 75 degrees–and the air smelled of jasmine. I wanted to ride. I passed up my house and headed to the newly-paved strip of road around Third and Laurel. Now, usually when roads are repaved here, they are done in fits and starts, with strips of new smooth street interrupted by rumble strips of the old. But these few blocks are divine–smooth blacktop made to be floated over. I had to dodge a couple of cop cars, and this corner toilet certainly isn’t scenic, but I have to admit–the smell of the air and the feel of the cool breeze and the slip-slide roll of my bike across the new street, well, that’s my kind of scenery. It’s good to be back on my bike.