Tonight found me riding my bike down to the Lower Garden District to meet friends for drinks and socializing, and then over to one of my favorite bars for some dancing. The first place didn’t have anywhere to put bikes, so I locked up on a pole about half a block away; a couple bikes had already staked out the bus stop sign. Riding a bike makes so much more sense than driving here, but there is a definite lack of bike infrastructure. Take, for example, Whole Foods in Uptown New Orleans. That place is crawling with bike-riding do-gooders, but there’s just that one artistic bike rack in front, and then the racks in the parking lot, a dangerous place for drivers, let alone cyclists. Up at Tulane the bike racks on the upper part of campus are almost always filled, unless you get there early. I walked my bike to the second bar, knowing they’ve got a rack. I took this picture of the thing loaded with bikes; there’s Rhoda, jutting out in the middle. Bikes were locked to the gate in front of the house next door, including a set of three lathed together with a serious chain. This I like to see, but the place clearly needs even more racks. Please, New Orleans, give me a safe place to put my bike. After locking up, I headed in and danced and danced and danced. I love to dance almost as much as I love to bike. I took my sweaty self home on the bike, zipping through the humid night air, thankful.