My pump, having magically cured itself, was working once more. The tires on The Mule were fully inflated and I was off with a nice tailwind to commiserate with the caffeine addicts at Friday Coffee Club.
I left in the pitch dark which took some getting used to in light of the fact that I was still half asleep. The sunrise over the river was a thin line of purple. (You’ll have to close your eyes and imagine because I didn’t stop and take a picture.)
It was too early for the drop off line at St. Mary’s School of the Holy SUVs which meant I could ride through Old Town on Royal Street. I did Idaho stops at the stop signs. No one was harmed. I didn’t even get a rise out of the police who watched me from their car at Montgomery Street.
Clear of Old Town and back on the Mount Vernon Trail, I entered commuter trance mode. A dozen robins were cavorting and squabbling next to the trail. One robin seemed to attack another and they launched themselves into the air across the trail. Could have been zipless bird sex or just two drunken birds having it out. I was lucky to be looking down as they crossed my path and collided with my helmet. Feathers, birds, and my trance went every which way. Violent bird chaos is a strange way to wake up.
I arrived at Friday Coffee Club to see a crowded house. Nobody sang “Don’t Dream It’s Over.” The conversation was entertaining though. DC Councilmember and candidate for the Democratic nomination for mayor Tommy Wells was there along with two staffers. (Rumor has it he was trying to catch a deluge in paper cup.) I talked to Theresa his campaign finance director. (I’d make a joke here about inappropriate fund raising but the incumbent is in the middle of scandal and I’m afraid someone might think I was serious.) Michael showed up with a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a jumbo chocolate chip cookie. Breakfast of champions. Theresa looked dolefully at her half eaten bran muffin. TGIF. (Thank God It’s Fiber.)
@bobbishaftoe wore her amazing winter head gear. Despite the fact that my camera was not working properly I am posting the picture here for posterity. The folks at the nervous hospital say she likes French fried p’taters.
My ride to Rosslyn featured a near perfect ride across the TR Bridge. I was 3/4ths of the way across when I had to stop for a DC-bound bike commuter.
Turning onto Lynn Street at the Rosslyn Circle of Death I stopped even though I had a walk signal and the cross traffic had a red light. Sure enough, an prehistoric dump truck blew through the red light to make a right turn. If I hadn’t stopped that would have been the end of me.
Once at the office, I dismounted and kissed the ground.
After a day of economic research that couldn’t be beat, I headed for home into a 20 mile per hour headwind. I felt hungry and sleepy. Tree pollen levels are high so I suspect my allergies are picking up. Considering the fact that my knee, hips and back are once again on the fritz, I expect to have a wretched weekend. Try not to do the same.
Errandonnee #10 Summary
Category: Either coffee or community meeting, depending on which gets me all the glory
Miles: 15 (one way)
Observation: If the gods have a choice between having you collide with birds or a dump truck, pray for the birds.