Thursday’s ride took me to Charles Village to meet N. for a surprise lunch before heading down to the Horseshoe Casino to invest some spare dollars and then enjoy happy hour while watching college basketball. None of that aligns with any of my political priorities, but fuck it, I’m on vacation and am basically a huge hypocrite. I left, one “cosmopolitan” and two lite beers plus some of Guy Fieri’s “vegas fries” on board, but in spite of all that, since I broke even at the slots and UCLA won a nailbiter, I considered myself a winner. It was getting chilly out as I snaked my way home, taking some turns in the Sharp-Leadenhall neighborhood to see if I could find those solar panels I can see from the shuttle on the highway. They’re behind security, but I did learn that BGE has an energy plant they call “Spring Gardens,” and I was like, dude. Really? And then I biked toward piles of rubble, because I love that sort of thing, and South Baltimore’s got plenty of it. I don’t know what’s going in over here, but the googleymap streetview images are all of houses and dogwalkers, so I think I’m missing something. I’ll go with my hunch, though: high-priced condos. For now, though, it’s all piles of brick and concrete, and you can see inside what used to be there and wonder what the people who put the old buildings up wanted to do with this space, and what they’d think of their stuff made into these piles. I continued my ride, saying the spring how-you-doin’s that remind me how locked up I’ve been in winter, and got the friendly nods of folks who are probably shaking off the same winter. “How you doin’?” one guy responded. “I’m doing great–beautiful day, I’m on my bike, couldn’t be better.” “I can tell! You enjoy that exercise!” And I did, pedal pedal pedal, up the hill to home.