Commuting: Lessons Re-Learned.

I rolled into and out of D.C. today on the Great Northern Scared Bike Commuter Route, the one that transits Bowie, Goodluck Road, the Northeast Branch, Rhode Island and Montana Ave, thence to L Street.

Holy crap was it a hairball ride today. Along the way in, I had plenty of time to ponder bike commuting. The ride only took 1:20 or so, but when your whole life flashes before your eyes in a second 6-8 times on a single ride, the time between near death experiences seems like whole millenia. So there was plenty of time to figure out the secret to life, death, bike commuting, and how Item 3 is liable to lead to Item 2. Here is what I figured out:

1. The odds are pretty good everybody who hasn't ridden a road bike in 4 months has completely forgotten how to ride around traffic and stick to a straight line. How I got to work this morning without getting snared in a DWI stop is beyond my comprehension.
   
2. The probably-unlicensed-uninsured day laborers everybody is worried about colliding with? Don't sweat it. They're your friends. I had a collision with a van today, driven by some guys who appeared to fit that description. It was my fault, I clipped the mirror pretty hard with my shoulder trying to lane split. As I unclipped and waited to hear something from the driver, he peeled out and took off like a scalded cat. Wanted nothing to do with me. See? They're my friends.
   
3. There is no safe way to handle shoulderless roads in P.G. County. Sick drivers who like to buzz and swerve in to make a point, lanes that appear then disappear for no rhyme or reason. I rolled up a lane of maybe 10 cars at the junction of 201 and Goodluck, and passed, in order, texting, texting, phone, checking email, phone phone texting, dark windows, angry muttering to self, texting. You could ride with flashing red lights, an air raid siren, a pair of Barrett .50 Cal rifles in a handlebar mount and vivid magenta flames shooting out your ass, and it still wouldn't get anybody's attention. Not in P.G.
   
4. Changing a flat tire in the dark in the woods on the edge of a road is harder than doing it in the light. It is especially hard when your tire 'iron' breaks the moment it touches the tire's sidewall.
5. Maryland has nicer roads than Virginia as a rule, but when Maryland decides to let a road go to hell, it doesn't screw around. The potholes are big enough to eat other states' potholes two at a time.
   
6. At this time of year, leaving the office in summer jersey + knee warmers at 5:05 PM and 63 degrees, means it will be 47 by 6:10, and you will only be able to avoid hypothermia by telling yourself you're a hard as shit Belgian flahute. The realization that you're actually a complete pussy will then cause you to double over in laughter, and the combination of warmth from the muscle contractions and the heat-conserving doubling over will help you avoid freezing to death.
   
7. When I stopped to fasten on my headlight, a guy in blue club kit stopped to ask me if I needed anything. I gave the "Nah, I'm fine thanks" response and as he rode away I thought about how that was really classy; I'd have been in the doo doo at that particular spot if I was having a serious problem. I wasn't but hearing another cyclist basically saying he had my six, was really cool. You should always stop to help people who look like they might need it... well, unless you're going for that unprecedented fourth straight Giant Asshole of the Year Award, in which case, you should just keep on riding...
   
8. My ride was made safer by Fast as Schidt Sean, who gave me a CatEye Orbit Spoke Light the other week. You should consider getting one if you ride in the dark at all. This is what it looks like in the dark.
   

TOT 16: It's Brighter Than Me, For Certain

Thanks Sean! I'm never going to ride at night without one.