Random Day

It's been a crazy couple of days here in the old orifice. The Internet was down the entire day on Tuesday (including our twenty remote stores), yesterday I was running around like mad, and today I'm trying to bankrupt the company with all the repair parts I gotta order.

Also, my bike has broken. Again. I'm too tired to really even be actively angry at it. It's like a sloth's anger: just enough to be there, but not enough to raise my metabolism. This time it's the part of the gear shift that attaches to the rear axel. Metal screws and plastic threads don't mix. I'm literally using string to keep it together.

Anywho, cell phone picture fun time!


I decided to try and mix two of my favorite activities: Riding bikes and smoking cigars. I picked a cheapy (by my standards, about $3.50) and started smoking what I'd gauge to be a forty-five minute cigar. Three miles and definitely not forty-five minutes later it was burned down to what you see here. I refuse to liter and silently wish brain cancer on people that flick their butts out the window, so I held onto this thing, burning, all the way to a trash can. Beware: the wind will smoke your cigar right down to your teeth if you let it. But overall, enjoyable.



Okay, I'm not sure what prompted this, but the city has recently installed ginormous cement plant pots on the once wonderfully wide sidewalk of the overpass I trek daily. It cuts a "two-lane" sidewalk into a little less than one lane with hunreds-of-pounds pillars of death quite regularly. I'm going to complain to someone, as soon as I find the e-mail address. These things are dangerous.


My chain popped off yesterday so my hands got a little greasy. I had to be careful not to besmirch my William Gibson.


Catching some cool, refreshing breeze off the front of the ferry.


Enjoying the view early one morning before the ride.

I know this is sort of a cop-out post. I'm just pressed for time this week. More later.

- David

Smells Like Safety

A few days ago on the ferry an older gentlemen and fellow bicycle commuter was noting with appreciation my use of flashing lights on both the front and back of my bike. I don't ride at night or even at dusk, but if I'm on the road these are always on. Anything to be more visible, and as a result more safe, is a good idea.

As we waited to vacate the ferry, he said over the din of the engine that it was nice to see someone actually using lights. I nodded and smiled, saying something about how more people should. Then he told me if I just had a hardhat on I'd be perfect. I laughed in my protective headgear of a Starbucks hat and told him I needed to get one.

Later that night the girl and I were watching "Scarred" on MTV, a show about bad wrecks and injuries skaters and the like receive. One boy on rollerblades hit his had on the pavement hard enough to bleed out of his ear and spend seven days in a comma. When he woke up he had no sense of smell and a tougher time remembering dates and names. I was getting the message.

Next morning I dug into my closet and busted out the bulging bag that contained my old K2 skates, knee pads, elbow pads, gloves/wrist guards, and my helmet. I put all but the helmet and gloves back into the bag. I'm sure hardcore safety peeps would prescribe that I wear the elbow and knee pads, but it's hot enough already and my gut tells me I won't really need them. Also, I never see Lance Armstrong wear them, so there you go. I think that at the very least a helmet is required, but everyone has different needs and comfort levels. Protecting my head, hands, and wrists is good enough for me at the moment.


The helmet is a bit tight when worn with a hat as well (as I discovered yesterday) so I'm just going to start packing a pair of sunglasses instead to keep the glare off. I think the hat would trap even more heat as well, although I have seen other cyclists wear them backwards in an effort to keep sweat from going in their eyes and perhaps shading the back of their necks. I have some bushy eyebrows that do a pretty good job of keeping my salty skin secretions from going into my eyes, so I think I'll be okay.


The gloves I bought years ago at a skate camp to protect my wrists from over-bendage and the palms of my hands from the harsh concrete. It's padded heavily on the meaty part of the palm and has towel-like material on the backs of the thumbs for handily wiping sweat and (as the package said) blood away. The tops are made of breathable material that let a nice breeze in when I clench my fists. The straps are wide and go around the wrist a few times, providing flexible support that would adjust to any thickness.

I feel a lot better with them on, actually more so than the helmet, as I've had wrist injuries before and the first thing I do when I'm falling is try to catch myself. Sometimes it works, sometimes the wrist breaks.

You don't have to spend a lot, but if you're considering riding your bike daily to work, on errands, etc (like I hope you are) then you should protect your body. You (hopefully) wear your seatbelt when you drive; you need protection on your bike too. Because something will happen. You don't want brain damage.

In other news, my body is getting to the point where it craves exercise. Yesterday I went to the cigar shop with my co-worker and my girlfriend came out to meet us there so we could drive back. Later that night in my apartment I was thinking, "I should really go to the gym and try to get that six miles in..." Normally I'm very sloth-like and relish any chance to avoid exertion, but since I've been riding the urge for physical activity has grown along with my overall energy level. So to the gym we went, and I was able to get four-and-a-quarter miles in before my gal's obvious boredom prompted leaving.

With all the benefits I'm seeing, I'm sorry I didn't start doing this sooner. I think if a lot of people just gave it a try for a week they'd get hooked like me.

- David

Behold!

The bike o' my recent fantasies! The Trek 7.2 FX. I'm total high school and have a picture and the spec sheet printed out and hanging on my wall.

I finally made it to the local bicycle shop this Saturday and took a look around. They had a ton of bikes and really I only had my list of complaints about the current one, but a nice fellow named Michael came to help. He was smaller than me with comfy looking sandals and white socks that somehow didn't make him look dorky. He was friendly and quiet, and seemed to be physically worn out, but in that good way. Like he had just gotten of the job of riding twenty miles uphill and now he was chilling with his venerable homeboys. I was at ease around him, which is rare as I usually get defensive and nervous when someone is peddling multi-hundred dollar purchases.

He had me hold his plastic water bottle as he untangled the little red number you see above from some of the others after I explained my general situation and did a bit of belly-achin'. Being used to The Caddy like I am (one of the many terms used to describe my current bike, "Killer" being another) and then simply lifting this beauty, I was already impressed. Then he started getting into the features. Quick shifters up on the handlebars (a trigger style for one direction, then a throttle style for the other), tiny high pressure tires, brakes that did not depend on the chain, etc. And lordy was it small.

I was content to just look at it (and lift it up repeatedly in wonder), but I got to take it for a test spin up and down one of the nearby roads. I felt silly riding a bike with both the girlfriend and the salesman watching, but as soon as I turned the corner it all went away. It was akin to piloting only an old sailboat before, and then being handed a jet ski. Not that one is inherently better than the other, just very different. Any bike works for commuting to work; don't let me discourage you. Mine just tried to kill me and weighs a ton.

I made sure to go off some curbs to test one of the most annoying things about The Caddy: it falls like a ton of bricks. Just recently (as you'll see in the second part of Good Lord, coming soon) it even broke it's own fender after rolling off some (admittedly) nasty curbs. A bike should not damage itself after crawling off anything curb-height. The new bike bounced off the curb very nearly like I was stepping off it naturally. A stretch sidewalk had been turned into jagged rubble by something or other and I rolled through it with ease, not like I was going to shake my spine out of my body.

Then a straightaway! I quickly jumped up the gears, again surprised at how smooth it all was. The Caddy has three gears, and nothing short of already going about nineteen miles an hour makes going from second to third gear easy or smooth. The bike made no noise except for the tires on the surface of the pavement. I had a tiny scare when I pedaled backwards to slow down and nothing happened! Then I applied the much better system of hand brakes and slowed enough to turn around and head back.

I didn't want to get off it, but Kasey and Michael were hanging out in front of the shop waiting for my return. Handing it back over to him and following it back into the shop I asked about racks and panniers, warning I had no idea how to pronounce "panniers" before I said it. Apparently I did okay, as it has two pronunciations which I take to be the true one, and the Americanized one. I said it the latter way, with a slight North-West accent. Both rack and pannier were cheaper than I thought, and if I let them know it advance they'll even install 'em for me.

So as you can tell and guess, I'm all hella pumped. I see wet streets and I think about learning how to drift on the new bike. I day dream about how much my average MPH will increase. I giggle thinking about parking it here in my office with me. I even contemplate painting it and other such projects. Problem is I'm poor right now, so I can't get it. Even with trade-in. Even selling blood and semen. Whether together or separate. I, your lowly blogger, must do something he sucks at: He must save.

If there happens to be any corporations reading this, and they want to sponsor me, I will wear your company logo wherever you want, and I do mean wherever. ;)

Okay, I need to think about work stuff. Peace!

- David

Good Lord - Part, The First

Friday was a tough day. Thursday & Friday I was biking to one of my company's stores for training. Apparently I'm the only one at corporate who hasn't had store experience and my boss wanted me to have some. Google Maps and Bikely (a cool site for bike routes) showed the store to about 5.9 miles away. I don't know if I've mentioned this but my regular commute is around 6.7, so I figured it'd be easy.

Day 1 had me going up some busy streets during morning traffic, which I'm still getting used to. My bike isn't really made to keep up with traffic, a fact I am well aware of. The downtown area was pretty calm though, and even had a bike lane for a good stretch before I changed directions into quieter suburbs. Bike lanes are nice, this is my first time partaking of them. Enjoyable and efficient! No honking here, no frenzied peddling to try and keep up with the other vehicles.

My path through Suburbia turned into some two-lane, one-way streets which I needed to cross in order to make a left turn, which due to the grass median, I missed at first. I had to wait in the middle of the curvy road as a line of cars went by, including a police officer. Apparently I wasn't breaking any laws, but I always get nervous. Getting a ticket on a bike would be both hilarious and ridiculous.

Past and through more pretty neighborhoods with little rivers and tunnels of trees, and one road in particular (I want to say Norway Place in the Lafayette Shores area) is the sort of street I live for as a bicycle commuter. It's quiet, it's smooth, it's beautiful, there's no traffic, and because of it's proximity to water and tree canopy it's cooler than other places. I'd live there in a minute.

But apparently Heaven comes just before Hell. Soon after this brief oasis of awesome I was back on a busy four-lane street, the apparent necessary evil of having to cross a body of water. I can't even describe my frustration as the sidewalk turned into shittier sidewalk, then barely surviving patches of concrete amidst grass, then no sidewalk at all. I was dumped on the wrong side of the road with morning commuters and no place to go. All around me were the curved chutes of on- and off-ramps and cars moving quickly under the two or three level overpass. Needless to say, it wasn't good.

A nice Asian man in an empty minivan let me in front of him in the turning lane and I waited at the light, frowning and perspiring. Did I mention the heat index for that day was slated for something like one-hundred and three degrees? And there was your humble blogger on his fifty pound mess of David-powered locomotion, poised to enter the bookends of highway traffic.

The light changed, I peddled out into farthest left lane, all was well. I'm looking to my left for building numbers as my legs pump, trying to at least make an effort to not be slow as hell. My previously held assumption that my destination would be soon after the overpass was incorrect. I had something like ten blocks to go, based off the numbers on the stores I passed.

Then, I hear the honking. And not the gentle "beepeep" of some nice person just letting me know they're behind me and about to pass (which has happened a few times) but some jerkface in a red pickup truck. If I can (loosely) steal a passage from one of my favorite books, he's leaning on the horn so hard he's in real danger of detonating the airbag.

This goes on for a while as I diligently peddle away, and then he comes up next to me shouting something I can't make out. He's not in his lane. He's about halfway into mine. I'm so incredulous and cranky and tired that I don't even react. My face is blank. I'm just looking at him as I peddle on, never breaking tempo. He drives off and the only thing I can catch from his stream of anger sounds like, "That ain't no kinda job!" People always say things too late for me to hear, when they're about a car length in front of me.

I'm thinking about making shirts that say something to the tune of "I'm Going To Work, Too", "DON'T HONK UNLESS YOU KNOW THE LAW", and "My Other Ride Is A Redhead". Okay that last one isn't really pertinent, but whatever. Most people seem to think bikes shouldn't be on the streets and want to educate me via their car horns.

So that was Friday. I made it to the store on time, unscathed, sweating heavily and probably making the employee who was opening the store (and unaware I'd be training there today) wonder who this apparently homeless high school kid covered in sweat was, and why he wanted inside.

I vowed, watching that red truck full of angry black man drive away, that'd I'd find a different route to work the next day. And oh, I sooo did.

Lessons Learned:

Somehow verify every new route. Visually would be best, but a lot us are trying to save gas here so driving each new path you need to travel may not be desirable or possible. Join local bike communities, check Bikely.com, use Google Maps' satellite option to at least get an idea of landmarks and the like, talk to people who may pass that way regularly. If you're banking on sidewalks, make sure there are sidewalks. Especially in high traffic areas. Getting caught like that under the overpass was not pleasant.

People can be jerks. Just stay cool, proj on, don't panic. Freaking out will cause you to make bad decisions that can be very, very costly. People being jackasses shouldn't be new to you; it's exactly the same when you're on a bike. Just let them pass on by

I'm breaking this up into two parts, I didn't anticipate it being this long and people can digest smaller things more easily and readily. The long-winded conclusion up next!

- David

Just Because

Just because, I'm emptying out my cell phone:


Lots of heat rises out of your head and the back of your neck, use smarts and cleverness to help it escape! You'll be cool in more ways than one!


All those ripped jeans and old undershirts need to look fabulous is a fabulous attitude! You don't need to spend money to be comfortable on your ride! Utility over beauty!

- David!

First Wreck, Woo!

So there's that old saying about two kinds of riders/drivers/boarders/etc: Those who will wreck, and those who have. Today, I am that second kind. You may think me a masochist (and who isn't, when you really think about it) but I'm pretty happy with it. I missed having bruises and cuts.

Remember when I said that I'd fixed my chain? Yeah, apparently not. It had popped off once yesterday going around a corner at a whopping three miles an hour then again today turning into a parking lot. It was annoying. But then! I was coming down the last hill that's comprised of an overpass that spans a six-or-eight lane highway. I take the sidewalk on this part of the journey because I do not want cars on my ass as I try to lug it up steep inclines.

As I rolled down the hill, gaining speed by the second and bumping over the grass growing between the cement squares I thought to myself, "One day these little green bumps are going to make that stupid chain slip off, and then where will I be." Then I heard a noise. I looked down, and sure enough, my chain was dangling inches from the ground. Still, I tried to apply the brake a few times, just to be sure.

So there was your humble author, whizzing down a hill at probably eighteen-plus miles an hour with no way to stop and nothing but the end of the sidewalk rushing to great him before he clatters out, brakeless, into the road. A few options occurred to me but none seemed as good as bailing and trying somehow to get lucky enouth to stop both bike and rider with my trusty feet, Fred Flinstone style. As deliberations ensued I instinctively sat up as straight as I could to try and turn my torso into an airbrake and sap some speed. I bet I looked awesome with perfect posture and Deer-In-Headlight eyes.

The time came eventually when it seemed I was still picking up speed and if something did happen it'd be more likely to spill out onto the road. In the mindlessly graceful and slow-motion way people operate in when Shit Is Going Down I gently steered my bike onto the grass and dismounted to the right of my bike with no sound in my ears or thoughts in my head.

Two gigantic and pointless steps, still grasping my handlebars, facing my grassy and impending doom, I finally flew into the air, unable to arrest the momentum I had accrued. My bike still upright passed me and I crumple-scraped onto my side, my bottom half trying to come up over the top half, backpack gone, both shoes loosed into the air like red birds. Then in a gritty grass-stained splay I finally stopped moving. The whole thing probably took fifteen seconds.


I stood up immediately and took stock. Everything still moved okay, my bike seemed fine. Bastard. I walked back to my shoes and bag in a mixture of shock and mock-annoyance as a lady drove by in her car, looking at me with concern on her face. I think she figured I was fine because I looked angry. Really my brain was just trying to decide what emotion fit the situation best. I put the chain back on (loathed thing) as my legs shook uncontrollably from what I assume was adrenaline and I tottered onto the road.

My bike was making weird noises and a few minutes later I noticed my handlebars were crooked. My rear fender is warped into a strange shape that still allows the tire to glide underneath it. My lights were still blinking and my GPS receiver was still attached and GPSing away. I even got to work early.


I was lucky. Had this been the other big hill, which has lots and lots of busy traffic and no grass, I don't know what would have happened. Ridden down the road hollering and hoping people didn't run into me, I suppose. Looking back I guess I could have handled this better; perhaps I could have tried to just ride it out and wished for the best. But I was worried about trying to make a sharp turn where the sidewalk would soon turn into grass and where slipping would incur falling into the road.

Injuries include a bruised and scraped forearm, two skinned knees, and a shin that is kind of oozing moisture and looking very angry. Swelling is already present and I know later today and tomorrow morning I'm going to be sore. But hey, I'm not complaining. Let's one know that one's alive.

Lesson(s) learned: Fix your god damned bike today, not tomorrow. Especially on critical functions like braking. Also, pedal brakes suck. Also, grass is your friend.

Peace out.

- David

Oh, and apparently I hit the ground so hard my hair flew off:

More of the Same

A guy who writes what appears to be a popular blog wrote a little post entitled "6 Tips for Commuting to Work by Bike" which is worth a read. At the time of the article he was a newbie too, so his tips are accessible to everyone.

In other news, I fixed my bike. A helpful and enigmatic man in my office asked me how my riding was going on Friday and I told him my chain kept slipping off and trying to kill me. I mentioned I was going to hit up the bike shop during the weekend (which didn't happen) and he advised I loosen my rear tire and move it back until my chain was more taught. I kind of sat there behind this keyboard like, "...well...yeah." I can't believe I didn't think about it before.

So Saturday I busted out my trusty toolbox and got to work. I only had to loosen the big chrome nut on the rear axle and what appears to be a safety screw before the tire would move. I pulled it back until the chain was tighter (but not toooo tight) and tightened the nut and safety screw down like a motherfucker. I think having either one of the tires come off during any point of a ride would be the Worst Thing Ever.

Today was the test run, and I even went over some extra hardcore bumpage just to be sure, and not one single chain situation occurred. Success! I am now confident going across intersections. Well, confident in my machine. It's the other the drivers I'm always worried about. Never trust them; they are out to get you. That's probably a distorted view of reality, but one that will help keep me from becoming a hood ornament.

Okay, back to work.

- David

New Record!

Today is the week-aversary of my daily bicycle commute! Woo! Another sentence with an exclamation point!

Today must have known it a semi-special occasion because I didn't get lost, my chain only came off in non-life-threatening locations, and I made it to work in record time. Six-point-six miles in twenty-seven minutes! I have no idea if that's anything to be happy over compared to other people, but compared to myself that's awesome. Even with my two chain issues (I'm going to the shop this weekend, I swear) my average speed was still fourteen miles per hour. Not bad, not bad.

While I'm biking to work my head is filled with great advice to post here. Then I forget about half of them. I want to try to impart not just stories of sweat and speed, but some wisdom knocked out of the streets themselves as I happen upon them. Today it's the benefits of not being uptight and of backpack packing.

First, the backpack. Currently I do not have a rack, a basket, or those nifty pannier things (I want these) so I have to toss on a Burton snowboarding backpack to cart my junk around. I have water, a change of work clothes, a towel, a little umbrella, and whatever I'm bringing for lunch. The backpack itself is small as they go but works just fine for what I need, despite the fact that the part that touches my body is wool or something. That humble amount of stuff weighs about ten pounds and my back sweats more than any other part of me.

As soon as you can, get a rack and some panniers (or some kind of storage on the bike itself) and save yourself some hassle. Currently your humble journal-ist is poor so he cannot do so. He will at the next possible convenience. Carrying capacity is also something you'll want to keep in mind if you're going to buy a bike. This page here has some good tips on it and an example of just how much you can actually pack on these things. It's surprising.

If you do have to carry something on your body (like me) keep things in mind like blood flow, range of movement, comfort, and pressure points. This last one spurred this little topic today. I live on the 13^th floor of my apartment and get a few minutes in the elevator to have my backpack on before I board the ferry and actually start my ride so I can test for uncomfortable jabs in the back and ribs. Put soft, cushy things against your body and all hard, pokey things away from it. This will save you some pain during your ride, and if you wreck.

During a snowboarding run with this same backpack I had unwisely placed my shoes. I wiped out and had the added bonus of literally getting kicked in the back. With the entire weight of my body. You will wreck one day, and it'll be better to have your change of clothes help cushion your fall than that Tupperware container filled with your lunch. Messenger bags may also be desirable, and I tried to use my default one for a few days but I found it made me unbalanced and put strain on one side of my lower back, as well as cut off circulation in my shoulder. I can't cram as much stuff in their, either.

My ride yesterday was hard. It was a bit windy and seemed to take me forever to get home. I was exhausting myself trying to push against the wind and get up to speeds I felt I should be at. Needless to say, my legs were burning and I was a perspiring tired mess by the time I got to the ferry. I couldn't figure out if it was just the wind or something else that was making my muscles work so hard and why this ride seemed so tough.

Today was a lot different. I was making great time, I was smiling, it's Friday, all that junk. I was keeping my average speed up and my legs weren't tired at all. Cycling somewhere through quiet suburbia it dawned on me: I wasn't mentally berating myself and straining to go faster faster faster. There was no frantic whipping of the horses. I was allowing myself to enjoy it and that made my whole body relax.

I'm pretty sure what was going on yesterday was that my legs weren't relaxing even when they weren't pushing the peddles down. I bet none of me was relaxing, which is why I was so tired and covered in sweat. My legs were straining when they were supposed to be resting between each peddle. As soon as I realized this I started saying "Lightly, lightly, lightly..." in my head every time I felt my legs tense up as my mind started to get ahead of the bike. I even made sure create a tiny gap between shoe and peddle as I raised my leg up so I could be sure I wasn't mashing them down and fighting against my self the whole time. It really worked out.

As a result I was able to save my energy and keep my speed pretty even throughout the entire ride. I was happier and cooler and got to work the quickest yet. A somewhat left-field but valuable discovery.

Okay, I have to head home. Pool party onight! Woo!

Take it easy, have a good weekend my friends.

David

Oh, And...

Pictures! These were all done with my cell phone. Just look at all the crap I would have missed if I was in my car instead:









Enjoy.

- David

Various Hangups

Afternoon, campers. I figure I'll record my experiences as they happen as well as have more editorial type entries. This is the first kind.

Today I got a little lost. I decided to deviate from the route I've been taking due to heavy traffic and construction on the parts of the road I ride on. Plus, the road itself is bumpy and broken pretty heavily so it slows me down and I get sick of smelling exhaust fumes fairly quickly. I used the ever-awesome Google Maps to look at the surrounding area and decided to explore the suburb just south of my normal path. I have to head south eventually, so it's no big thing to do it sooner rather than later.

I wrote the directions down on a scrap of paper the night before and almost forgot about it until I was clattering along the pock-mocked pavement next to three lanes of traffic all going in my direction. My annoyance reminded me just as the turn was coming up and I gladly rode away from the herd of car commuters heading to their jobs.

It was a good choice. The tiny, tidy neighborhoods I rode through had nice green lawns and smooth pavement. I also only saw about two cars and neither of them were heading in my direction. There was also a lake which looked very peaceful although I know this state has mosquitoes like mad and that they like water. To a Buddhist like myself, mosquitoes are a test of training over instinct.

My chain popped off (for the second or third day in a row) as I rolled over the gutter through an intersection and I cussed, gliding to a stop next to manicured grass and an SUV. I need to take my bike in for service. It does this over the weirdest bumps and, more dangerously, when I'm really trying to get a break of speed. For instance, when I'm in traffic at a light and have a long line of grumpy morning people behind me. This happened yesterday right in the middle of the intersection. My shoe came off and everything. It was embarrassing and risky as I had no breaks and one bare foot. Lesson learned: Don't wear any type of shoe that easily slips off. I wear bright red Crocs, but I guess I need to put that little heel-guard down from now on. Hobbling back into the crosswalk to retrieve my footwear with streets full of stop-lighted commuters watching me was pretty funny though.

The next bit of trouble came when I turned south instead of north. For about five blocks. And the road I picked to try and get back on course was a cul-de-sac. Suburbia always fucks with my chi. According to my trusty GPS receiver (which I have on my handle bars) I would have been about nineteen minutes early if not for this delay. A new record! I was still there about fourteen minutes early, however.


Now, if you don't have one of these I'd recommend getting one. The model I have is pretty cheap from BestBuy and does everything and more I ever need it for. It tells me my speed, current distance traveled, how long till I get to my destination, where to turn, etc. I can select from well over twenty different sets of information. I've had it for years and some of that crap I still haven't used yet. It also records the path I travel so I can play it back later or reverse it to get home. Very useful. I'll be doing that on my ride home today to take me back through the exact way I came, minus the being lost part, of course.

Biking back up the road I just came down was annoying, but not too badly. At this point I was only about four minutes from work but I was tired. Usually during this part of the ride I'm wondering if my bike chain or something else hasn't rusted up as it seems strangely harder to stay at the same speeds I see at the beginning of my trip. One of life's mysteries I guess.

One important thing I'm finding is not to push too hard. It can suck up all your gumption and make you even more worn out and sweaty. Get your momentum back slowly. It's a lot better that way. You'll smell a lot better that way. Enjoying every moment of being outside, on a bike, getting exercise and saving stuff (cash and the environment) will make your ride and your whole day a ton better. Don't turn into a Negative Nancy.

Alright, I need to get back to work. My pseudo-lunch break is probably over.

Rock on brothers, rock on.

- David

Bike Commute!

This was originally posted on my main blog last friday, but I'm copying it over here.

Today, I am a bicycle commuter.

I'll write more later, but here's some pics:

That's my apartment on the left and the sidewalk to the ferry dock:


Where the captain resides:


The only traffic that slowed me down today:


Walking the pugs earlier:


And then one from last night when I got home:


And all on my cell phone!

Write more later, but it worked out perfectly.

- David