Shorts and a t-shirt are so two days ago. Yesterday, I took off from home on Big Nellie in complete denial which is to say I wore sandals, a t-shirt, and shorts. Not bike shorts, just regular old, wear-around-the-house shorts. The 55 degree/12 mile per hour breeze on my arms and up my pants was rather…um…invigorating. The 30 mile per hour ride down the Park Terrace hill woke my ass right up. Literally.
Today, I pulled out some arm warmers which cut my morning thrill in half, I suppose. Then came the Park Terrace Hill. Hello, sailor!
Since I left early so that I would be on time for our scintillating annual office strategy and planning meeting, I arrived at Dyke Marsh just in time for a pretty awesome sunrise. So I stopped and took a picture.
Then it was back to the commute. A nice little tailwind pushed me along. After I passed through Old Town, I spotted a guy in a tan suit with a manbag riding a Segway. It isn’t often that an old Fred like me on a recumbent sees somebody who is considerably dorkier looking. It’s pretty impossible to ride a Seqway in a suit without looking like an escapee from Camp Devo. Of course, young women who give Segway tours to DC tourists look impossibly cool and sexy on them. (He says to cover his ass the next time he runs into Rachel who used to give Segway tours. My motto is: Be kind to women with power tools.)
The rest of my ride was dork-free (myself excluded).
After a day of strategerific coffee-less meetings, I was back on the bent and headed for home with my second tailwind of the day. Big Nellie is feeling her oats now that she has a new chain and cassette.
Ready to launch to Friday Coffee Club in the morning.