I had to get to the office early today and stay late for a meeting, so I won’t get a chance to ride my bicycle today. I did, however, have time to hit the student gym where the only open cardio machine was the stationary recumbent bicycle. I haven’t been on one of those things since a shoulder injury and surgery left me with no other option–and thank goodness the option was there–but I went ahead and hopped aboard to see what it’s like. I mean, am I going to be sitting on that thing all through the winter season? God, I hope not. So boring. I like riding a bicycle because I like seeing what’s going on outside, the people, the neighborhoods, the streets, whatever (though I did get a chance to memorize all the teams in the America East conference, since their banners were the only things in my line of sight). It was also so much easier to just pedal in place–no cars or wind or weird folds in the asphalt or acorn shells trying to toss my wheel to the side–and that’s just not my speed. I like thinking about riding a bicycle when I’m riding my bicycle. Spin, spin, spin, la dee dah, and I was done, happy to have been moving, but a little scared about this thing You People call “winter.” I will have to find a way to bike and walk in wintery weather, because my soul cannot be forced to die on the recumbent bicycle.
bikes
The Inside of the 35 Bus on Wilkens Avenue
I only had a meeting this afternoon up on campus, so I figured it was the perfect chance to ride my bike to campus. I scrawled down a thousand turn-by-turns from the googleymaps, shoved the piece of paper in my bra, and pushed off down the hill on another new route. I took a wrong turn here and a wrong turn there, but eventually I was on Lafayette and going the right way and once I hit Monroe, I knew what to do (right, left, wave, right, coast, pedal, pedal pedal, pant, pant pant). Continue reading
Capital Bike Share at 10th & Constitution
I took myself to Our Nation’s Capital today to see J. and meet up with M., who low and behold, wants to get stamps in her National Parks Passport just as much as I do. Which is a lot. I thought about bringing my bike, figuring that the city’d be easiest to navigate by bike, like every other city I’ve visited. I left the Surly at home, though, and I’m glad I did, because D.C. has a bike share program! Continue reading
Burned Out House on Georgetown Road & St. Marks
I had one morning meeting up on campus and nothing else on my schedule, so I figured it was high time I take the bike on the commute. I left myself two hours to go the ten miles, fully expecting to get lost/get a flat/get so tired I’d have to walk. Well, I did get lost, but I’ve been memorizing streets on my drive over the past couple weeks for just this event, so I knew Saratoga crossed Monroe, and once I was on Monroe I could follow the same route I take in the car. Voila! Continue reading
The Surly in a La Quinta Hotel Room in Chattanooga, TN
Well, no bike ride for me today. I woke up early, ran this errand and that packed up the last of my things, shoved the bitter and suspicious cats in their cages, and for my last trick, strapped the Surly on the back of my tiny clown car and was finally off to Baltimore. I picked up S. from her place and we drove and drove and drove, one cat being all sweet and quiet, the other singing her songs, soothed only by early 90s rap and emo pop. We meant to stop in Birmingham, but why not keep driving? We pulled in to the pet-friendly La Quinta Inn and I locked my bike to a sign while unloading the cats. But I can’t leave my bike outside like that, not alone in a strange town. So here we all are, on our way to new rides, and with sweet new reflectors on my seat and pedals to boot.
Helmetless Head Riding Around The French Quarter
I woke up tired and feeling a little sickly, and I knew it was bad when I left my house with my bike but no helmet. What! I always wear my helmet. I read a story about health officials coming out against mandatory helmet laws, arguing partly that there isn’t conclusive evidence helmets decrease serious injuries for cyclists as a group. I rode my bike a mile and a half to brunch, all naked-headed. Yeah, that just doesn’t feel right. I didn’t even feel carefree, wind in my hair, all that jazz. A helmet on my head is what feels normal to me. I was so tired I went ahead and drove to E.’s house this evening. I can’t really believe people feel so scared to ride a bike and yet so safe in a car–there’s so much heavy metal hurtling through space at high speeds! But we make the trade off for the convenience of the thing to get us more places faster. I wear my seatbelt, or my helmet, neither of which takes the place of defensive driving/riding. And then there’s the faith that the people behind you are going to respect your space. It is totally worth it to get to ride a bike, and the more us us do, the safer we all are, helmet or not.
Dita Von Teese As An Orientalist Fantasy at the House of Blues on Decatur
I had a lovely day, up early, got some work done at the coffee shoppe, and then got a good bike ride in, first to R.’s place for a little bike lesson and a lot of catching up. It has been moons since our last session, and R. claimed to have forgotten everything she knew. I moved the seat down for her so she could sit and shuffle, pumped up the tires, and away we went. After mere minutes she did three revolutions on her own–she can ride a bike! I left her with my two cardinal bike rules: the faster you go, the easier it is to balance, so just keep pedaling, and second, look where you want to go, not where you don’t want to go, which is really a basic life philosophy. She promised to practice and I continued my ride Uptown to meet C. and H. for burritos and cat visitation before speeding back downtown to swap shoes and bag before pedaling back out to meet J. for Dita Von Teese’s burlesque show at the House of Blues. I could go on and on about the show, especially the part where Dirty Martini was there with her twirling tassles…she’s amazing, but you know what? That closing number? The one where Dita is some kind of Orientalist fantasy, from the “opium pipe” down to the hair and the awkward bowing? Yeah, that just kills my buzz. I’m sure I could make a case for it being an interesting mimesis that subverts yadda yadda yadda, but really, come on, can we please get a break from those tired tropes, especially when we’re a bunch of white people? Thanks in advance. After that bout of humorless feminist I was ready to head home, grateful for J.’s offer to drive me and my bike, because it is way past my bedtime.
504 Fashion on St. Bernard & N. Johnson
So I’m stuck in a rainstorm after a most lovely sunny ride to brunch with E. and then along the new Broad Street bike lane to the Gentilly bike lane and then back. Oh, do I love a new bike lane! Broad’s is super-wide and the asphalt isn’t piled with loose gravel and sticks yet, and in the whole ride, only one car was parked in it. For the commuter cyclist, that’s just heaven. And connection between Orleans, Broad, and Gentilly? Be still my heart! I thought I would make it back to the Quarter for women’s World Cup soccer before the rains, but alas, it wasn’t to be. But I needed a ride, and I got one, and there’s a dry spot under this church overhang and 504 Fashion just across the street and eventually I will just wade out into it, but for now I will stand here and mop off, composing another love letter to another bike lane.
Gwynns Falls Parkway a Half Mile Or So From Frederick Avenue
So back when I thought I might be a runner before figuring out it hurt my shoulder (don’t ask), I followed that Couch to 5K program to the letter, and it worked. Where’s the training program for the ten mile communte through hills both ways? Because that’s what I need. J. drove me and the rental bike to campus today, I did a few paperwork things, and then it was time to practice the commute back to the city. It started with a 3/4 of a mile ride up the incline of the aptly-named Hilltop Circle and then a right on the busy Wilkens Avenue. That offered some downhill respite, thank goodness, until another slow climb up Caton Avenue, where the traffic scared the pants off me, and I actually got off the bike and walked–I’d rather be safe than sorry. And then all of the sudden I was at the head of the Gwynns Falls Parkway, no cars allowed! How wonderful! I happily pedaled along the paved trail, stopping to take pictures like this one, of green walls hiding water and falls. Is this part of my commute, really, I thought. Turns out, no, so I turned back and retraced my steps and was back on the road with cars speeding by as I huffed and puffed my way to North Avenue. One guy shouted from his stoop on Fulton that I would catch more of a breeze if I just pedaled faster. Excellent plan, sir, but not one I am yet able to follow. Pedal, pedal, pedal, buy a bottle of water from a guy on a corner–aid stations!–take a right, take another right, take a right, and I was back at the bike shoppe, returning my rental, rehydrating, and after all that, feeling surprisingly good. It took me forever, and ithe traffic got a little nuts at times, but I did it, and I can do it again. But I am going to need to be patient and to practice. Project, yay!
Bike Rack at St. Paul & Madison
So I’m one of those people who gets the credit card because of the points promotions and orders the Groupon for the furniture store in Baltimore when she knows she’ll be moving there in six months. That meant a ride to Belvedere Square today to spend that $200. I don’t know my way around, not at all, so I ended up on a busy street that I knew would take me generally in the right direction. Gears, people, I need more gears, and I need my bike seat back–the chafing!–but I happily made it in under thirty minutes. Short trips are best made by bike, no matter where you are. I am so going to be able to bike this town, and that feels so good. Oh, and the uphill on the way there meant flying downhill on the way home. After a stop at K. and N.’s for a futile wait on the new landlord, I was back on the bike for a trip to Red Emma’s and their veggie banh mi. I locked up my rental bike to this cool bike rack in the shape giant chain links. The problem with the artistic bike rack, though, is it often isn’t entirely functional, and this one suffers from that as well. U-lock and cable kept my bike safe, though, until my ride home. Pedal, pedal, pedal up Eager Street, and then I caught a pothole. Time slowed, long enough for me to think about how I almost fell, and then to feel myself falling, wondering why I couldn’t stop it. And my first crash in Baltimore is under my belt. I scrambled out of the street, let that driver who kindly asked know that I was ok, and got back on the bike to get home and scrub, scrub, scrub. I’ve got impressive bumps on elbows and knees, but the good part of falling on a bike is remembering that those small falls will happen, and they just aren’t that big of a deal–just get back on the bike, you’re ok. And you’ve got to learn your potholes. And now, more ibuprofen.
What I Saw Riding My Bike Around Today 