Twilight comes late enough to feel like summer, but the waning daylight is evident, and it’s dark when we put the kids to bed. The transition from summer to fall, however, hasn’t been so much a cross-fade as a knife-switch. It took a while for summer’s dog days to arrive, finally coming in August, but in the span of the last 3 days, it’s gone from sleeping-on-top-of-the-sheets hot to it’s-a-great-day-for-football mild. I half expected to come outside this morning, watch every leaf on our street turn red in thirty seconds, and crash to the sidewalk all at once.

This year’s three-month bivouac at the pool is winding down, and once again the last days inspire both panic and relief. The pool itself is a delight, but it’s the grounds and the community that keep us in its orbit all summer long. We let the kids off leash to run with their toddler cohort, cook on community grills while our kitchen remains cool and un-thrashed, get to enjoy a beer (and sometimes more than one), and mingle with our friends in a pleasant meadow. We don’t even have to arrange to meet anyone. I mean, where else are they gonna go?

On the other hand, it tends to dominate the season. In early June, The missus was frantically trying to get the kids and I out the door. I hesitated, looked back, expressed my need to do something about our unfit-for-habitation living room and said I’d meet them later. “What are you talking about?” she said in disbelief, “The pool’s open! We’ll clean in September! Let’s go!” So, in that sense, we’re looking forward to blowing the dust of our project list and seeing what else there is to do.

One big project did get off the ground, though. The Wife’s other gig has been kick-ass this season. We’ve been blessed with berries and peaches and bread and all sorts of delicious local produce. She also came into this season hell-bent to realize a vision, a bike clinic, staffed with volunteers, who’d teach people about bike maintainence, do some repairs, and generally encourage people to get their bikes on the road. I have to admit, I was skeptical that it could work (and leary of being sucked into it since I already take over the kids on Saturday mornings while she’s market-managing). But lo and behold, smart, motivated people jumped right in, got folks signed up, and the results have been stunning. I worked one Saturday with 2-4 other volunteers, and didn’t stop from the opening bell until an hour after market closed. We’d helped over 30 people tune their bikes, and several of those folks have turned around and become volunteers since then. Meanwhile, some enterprising yoots down ’round the Bloomingdale Farmers’ Market have started up their own bike clinic, which we stopped by on Sunday morning, and it was totally hoppin’.

I gotta say, I’d be proud just to know my wife if I wasn’t lucky enough to be married to her.

Cledus and I had an incredible summer together, logging over 1700 miles and climbing almost 60,000 feet since Memorial Day, bringing my totals for the first two-thirds of the year to over 3100 miles and over 100,000 feet of climbing. Our many miles together culminated in my first ever century, which was far and away the baddest-ass thing I’ve done this year, and raising money and riding for Team Fatty made it even more meaningful. I’ll likely do more centuries, but I’ll always regard that one with a special fondness.

So into fall we go. With school starting, children to transport, backpacks to haul, and layers to carry, the swift-strike of a commute I make on Cledus will be replaced most mornings with the happy rolling melody of Nigel’s fat, creamy tires chewing up bricks, asphalt, and gravel with gusto. To tell you the truth, it’s hard to be sad about the transition when they both put such a big grin on my face. And while I’ve certainly enjoyed racking up road miles, the completion of the big ride and the crisp shift in seasons will mark a return to a more balanced palette of adventures. I’m itchy to throw plastic at metal, which I mostly gave up for training, and longtail camping trips up the C&O are definitely in order now that mosquitoes are no longer part of the experience and there’s enough snap in the air to make the first cup of coffee extra awesome.

Speaking of longtail projects, we’ve convinced more of our friends to take the plunge! They asked what it would take to make it happen, I pointed them towards a beautiful mid-90’s Trek 930 being sold nearby, they wisely jumped on it and pulled the trigger on an Xtracycle kit. And, get this, I’ve got the green light to make an appointment with the powder coater to make the whole rig Taxicab Yellow. (I’m trying to track down checkerboard decals, too, let me know if you’ve got a line on ‘em.) It’s going to be beautiful, and hopefully we’ll get it on the road quickly so we can get them out on the trail sooner than later. They’re excited. I’m excited for ‘em.

All this makes it sounds as if I’m done with road miles. Not so! In fact, another transition is in store as we ride into autumn. I had to face the fact that it’s just not the time or place for me to own a kick-ass single-speed mountain bike. I don’t ride singletrack here, as much as I think I’d like to, so the 4one5 has been relegated to the occasional urban assault, which consists mostly of delighting myself with bunny hops off speed bumps and tearing up the neighbors’ lawns. It needs to be on real trails, wearing knobbies, eating dirt. Meanwhile, I’ve developed an itch for a real road bike. Nothing too fancy, mind ya, but something a little more lithe and a little less linebacker than the Cledus. We’ll have to see what happens.

There’s one more big sunny barbecue left before it’s time to get the long sleeves and hoodies out (or, in the case of my San Francisco brethren, to put them back and get ready for things to warm up). And then it’s harvest and costumes and turkeys and reindeer from there on out.

So whatcha got planned for the end of summer?

I had jury duty this morning, so I had to hit the road early to get down to the US District Court building down at 3rd NW and Constitution. I didn’t end up having to go though, because about a mile from home, where 9th St NE passes under the Michigan overpass, someone drove their car into me.

It was a bizarre collision, actually. I often cut through the CUA Metro Station on the way to Monroe, because it seems safer than crossing Michigan (which local motorists treat like a freeway) at 10th. But I’m rarely there at that time of the morning, when people are dropping train commuters, and it was pretty busy with people slowly making their way around the circle. I came up to the stop sign on 9th, and came to a stop. I freely confess that I don’t always come to a complete stop there, any more than the cars do, but I do when there’s shuttle buses and cars coming through. This morning, I full stopped.

And as I was sitting dead center in the middle of my lane, behind the white line, a woman in a red Corolla came up to the intersection and started to turn left onto 9th. At first, I thought she was making the turn a little too tight, but figured she’d correct and go wider, since I was standing there right in front of her. But she kept turning, and started to accelerate. I started yelling at her to stop her car, since I was directly in front of her, but she kept coming. And when it was clear that she wasn’t going to stop and I couldn’t get out of her way, I jumped up and right as hard as I could, holding on to Cledus with my left hand, and tried to dive.

I pulled it off to the extent that the damage was minimal. She thumped the bike but it bounced off her hood since I was no longer holding it down on the ground. I mostly got out of the way, but took a pretty good thump to the left knee. And once she’d hit us, Cledus and I, she finally stopped. More than half her car was in my lane, and the center of her engine was squarely over where I’d been standing.

Now, I didn’t know who was behind the wheel of the Corolla, but I had adrenaline shooting out of my eyes and was vividly aware that someone had just driven their car directly, head-on into me (at low speed, thankfully), and was um… upset. Furious. My flash reaction was to start punching the car as if it and I were in a bar and it had just taken a swing at me. I didn’t, but I did start yelling at the driver to get out of the car, with several profanities interlaced, loud enough to wake folks all over the Metro station from their Monday morning fog, screaming questions at her about what she was doing and why she was driving straight into me. She yelled back at me, “I didn’t see you! I didn’t see you!”

What followed was typical, and I made a bunch of mistakes. The only person who saw the whole thing was the Comcast cable guy in the van right behind me, who got out and calmed me down, and then got into his van and left (which I honestly didn’t notice him doing). One witness in the wind. I let her move her car out of traffic while I called the police without getting a picture of it, which was another mistake. There was no wreckage or skid marks, and once the officer arrived she claimed that I was in her lane, and I’d hit her car. Not only was she lying through her teeth, but she was yelling at me indignantly like she believed it. I was able to find 3 people who’d seen what happened shortly after I yelled at her to stop the car, and could positively place her car in my lane, but the one person who saw the actual collision wasn’t there to talk about it. I’m waiting to hear from Comcast to see if they can help me find the vanishing cable guy.

She didn’t get so much as a ticket.

The bike’s amazingly okay, the only thing wrong with it is that my noodle bars are a little lopsided, they’ll need replacing, and the mudflap on the rear fender tore away. But the brake levers are fine, the wheel’s true, the forks are straight, and there’s not a scratch or a dent anywhere on the frame so I suppose the dismount-and-dive worked out.

My left knee’s got some stiffness, but nothing’s torn or broken, and I have full mobility. The quart of cortisol coursing through my blood vessels probably did more long term damage than the actual impact, but I’m putting the knee on ice for the day and keeping an eye on it just in case.

The worst part of it, really, is having to re-evaluate whether or not I want to keep riding the streets of DC. My guess is that this won’t keep my off my bike, but Mrs. Higgins and I do a lot of riding around on the big bikes with the kids, we go the long way and keep to smaller streets, and ride as safely and defensively as we can. But that woudn’t have helped in this situation, and that’s really the scariest part of it to me. There was no sun in her eyes, the lighting was perfect, I was standing at a dead stop in the middle of my lane, upright, and she was headed straight at me. How am I supposed to drive and maneuver defensively when I’m stopped in the middle of my lane, directly in front of an oncoming driver? How do you account and compensate for a driver whose blind spot is 10 to 30 feet directly in front of her?

I love DC in ways that I could not have known I would when we moved here 3 years ago, but I can say without reservation, as someone who came of driving age in Southern California and lived with a car in San Francisco, that nowhere I’ve ever lived compares to DC for shitty drivers. (Its been pointed out to me that I’ve never lived in Boston, so perhaps it gets worse.) At first, I thought it was because so many of DC’s motorists come from other places, and bring the bad habits of their native roads with them, making it impossible to have a common road culture where everyone knows which rules to bend. But now I’m not so sure, the locals are dangerous too. Sure, most people drive pretty well, and every day I consciously take note of those drivers that acknowledge my presence, and give waves and smiles whenever I can. But the bad ones here more than compensate for the competent ones, and they’re dangerous.

I’m sure this isn’t an uncommon reaction, but I’ve got a lot of thinking to do about whether or not I’m willing to do that with my kids anymore, or for that matter, willing to risk making them orphans. I know this without lengthy reflection: Davis, Madison, Boulder, Santa Cruz, Seattle, and all of Holland are at the top of the list of candidates for our next (and perhaps last) move. And maybe sooner than later.

[UPDATE]: It was pointed out to me that if I’d gone ahead and rolled through that stop sign and either zipped across before she got there or slithered around her aft, I wouldn’t have gotten hit. How about that, Mr. Forester?

[UPDATE AGAIN]: After some initial anxiety, I did ride in today, on Cledus Jr. I figured a low-geared single speed would keep my top speed down, which would be good for getting back in the saddle. Also, his offroad agility would give me the opportunity to immediately jump a curb off the street and onto someone’s lawn if I freaked out. All in all, it went pretty well, and I smiled/waved at least 5 people on the way in.

[UPDATE YET A THIRD TIME]: Here’s an animated dramatic recreation, but without me yelling, “Stop! Stop! Stop your fucking car!“, the subsequent crashing noise, or the raging river of profanity that followed.

Caught this quote on The WashCycle, as part of another discussion about the George Washington Memorial Parkway…

The unnecessary bike ban on the roadway south of Dangerfield Island and the moronic 15 MPH speed limit on the parallel Mount Vernon Trail must be changed. A 15 MPH bicycling speed limit is a de facto ban on transportation bicycling.

I’ve seen this sentiment expressed in other discussions regarding mixed use trails, and I find it puzzling. Is this really a deal breaker for people when deciding whether or not to commute by bicycle?

I realize my circumstances are my own, commuting about 5-6 miles each way, and typically on an Xtracyclized mountain bike with 60mm tires. I usually glide along at somewhere between 15-20 mph when I’m up to speed, but I don’t mind floating along at 10 mph either. I’m usually pretty happy to be on my bike regardless.

So it’s always a little strange to my ear to hear people say that putting a speed limit on a trail, or even on a section of trail, makes it unusable for transportation cycling. I mean, if, in the course of discussing a proposed city street, someone were to suggest that 25 mph made it unusable because it wasn’t fast enough for their car, wouldn’t that sound strange? Don’t we accommodate the needs of others for all sorts of shared resources? Isn’t that part of city livin’?

I’m not saying that these people are wrong, but I’m clearly missing some key aspect of this argument, aren’t I?

I’ll soon have more to post about biking in New York with the kids, pastries from Balthazar, toddlers gone wild at Tompkins Square park, picnicking with friends at 9th and C, and other delights. There are many pics that need pulling off the phone, but I thought I’d post one that had me thrilled.

Check out what they done gone and built in Chelsea, going south on 9th Avenue:

That’s a real honest-to-god bike lane. Note, going from right to left: three lanes of traffic, one lane that’s parking or a left turn lane (depending on which way the cross street goes), a physical barrier, and a full bike lane. You can’t see it very well in this shot, but the traffic light at the corner, to the left of the bike lane, is a stop light exclusively for regulating the bike lane (the red, yellow, and green lights are actually in the shape of a bicycle). The light just to the right of it regulates the left turn lane, allowing cars to safely cross the bike lane.

Riding down this section of 9th, with my daughter in her kid-seat, I felt like the city recognized us as legitimate traffic and took our safety seriously. I felt like I was on a road built with bikes at the core of the design, rather than one where the design half-heartedly acknowledges that bikes are vehicles and then throws us into a raging current of cabs, busses, and SUVs. It felt really, really good.

That is infrastructure you can believe in, my friends.

[UPDATE]: fixed the lane order, here’s a document that lays out what I’m trying to describe, around page 19 or so. There’s more benefits than I’d considered, like a shorter crossing distance for pedestrians and a barrier to turning the wrong way on a one-way street. Neat.

It should also be noted that food messengers don’t seem to understand that the awesome new bike lane only goes one way, and that the northbound bike lane is over on 8th Ave. Or, they get it and don’t care. I’d typically blow off that kind of anarchy because, ya know, it’s New York and they gotta make a living right? But this is a real, permanent, well-designed bike road we’re talkin’ about, it’s undeniably a one-way thing, and going the wrong way on it makes it unsafe the same way that driving a car the wrong way up a one-way street does. So fuck that, ticket the living shit out of ‘em. Growing up ain’t always easy, ya know?

[UPDATE AGAIN]: This really was just supposed to be a short post, but I ran into this StreetFilms short about efforts to create more separated bike lanes in New York, it seems appropriate to throw it on the stack. I wonder if Mayor Fenty’s seen any of this. It’s quite a vision of what a city can be.

A young lady here in D.C. was killed riding her bicycle in the Dupont Circle area last week. Evidently she was going straight through an intersection and was run over by a garbage truck turning right. It’s the kind of story that makes my stomach knot and my heart break for her, for the family, and for the driver as well. The life of everyone involved has been redefined in that instant, and not in a good way.

The blog pundits have weighed in. Matthew Yglesias isn’t looking to accommodate, he thinks we ought to take more street back from the cars and use it for bus lanes, bike lanes, and light rail. Megan McArdle stokes flames by asking whether drivers or cyclists suck worse, and comes to the easy conclusion that it’s the drivers, and further that it’s D.C. drivers in particular. I disagree with Ms. McArdle on a variety of issues, but we’re solidly in concurrence on this one.

Ezra Klein draws attention to a study finding countries with more cyclists are safer. Sounds about right to me, the more familiar people are with mixed traffic, the less freaked out they should be sharing the road. Additionally, as more and more people turn to bicycles for relief from rising fuel costs, we’ll have a larger, more affluent, and therefore more powerful constituency. Sucks that you need numbers and money to get anyone in power to take notice, but that’s life. Mayor Fenty is already a strong supporter of alternative transportation, I’m hoping that between the growing ranks of cyclists and smart, progressive administrations we should see some real improvements in infrastructure.

And then come the comments (some of them mine) where each side shouts J’accuse!, and describes how they saw this bike/car run this red light/stop sign etc, etc. It’s predictable, like a fight in a small town bar that keeps happening between the same drunks over habitual insults and injuries. I frequently throw a punch or two, because shit, someone is wrong on the internet. But every so often, a stranger will walk through the door and throw down with something really special that just leaves jaws on the floor.

This country is not set up for bikers like Europe is, with its smaller city streets and huge population of bikers. Biking to work in most American cities is just taking an unnecessary risk. Go bike on a bike path for fun, but get the hell out of traffic.

Yeah that’s nothin’ I haven’t heard before. Blow it out your…

Biking to work is an affectation, and selfish in many ways. Look at the consequences to the family of that poor girl who was killed.

Wha-wha-Whatdidyoujustsay?!?

It IS selfish to unneccessarily risk your life if you have a family. Of course you can find cities in Europe that are not good for biking — such as Paris and Prague. Those that are, and have by COMMON practice and agreement, a large urban bike population, like Amsterdam, are the ones I was speaking of.

Paris, huh?

On July 15, the day after Bastille Day, Parisians will wake up to discover thousands of low-cost rental bikes at hundreds of high-tech bicycle stations scattered throughout the city, an ambitious program to cut traffic, reduce pollution, improve parking and enhance the city’s image as a greener, quieter, more relaxed place.

Hey, those Frenchie bike rental stations look just like… ah nevermind. It should be noted that we do have common agreements, called laws, that lay out how we share the road. But g’head, continue.

Here, biking to work is eccentric, and therefore often done by people trying to strike a pose. There are some people who refuse to go along with the herd on most things, insisting that every single thing they do be marked by the stamp of their individuality. In my experience, that’s the person who bikes to work in a large U.S. city.

I was angry about this yesterday, but now I can’t stop giggling. Put aside the laughable Eisenhower-era attack on “eccentricity”, or the false equivalencies of cycling with eccentricity, or eccentricity with vanity. Put aside the fact that anyone who’s paying attention knows that your “stamp of individuality” in modern America comes from the products and media you consume. I mean really, c’mon, whattaya new here?

What I’m really curious about is this person’s experience. I know plenty of folks that ride to work, and I read a bunch who care to write about it. Many do it because they love bicycling, some do it because they hate driving, some do it to reduce their impact on the environment, and some believe it’s great for their health. Self sufficiency comes up pretty frequently, as does the need to respond to our country’s addiction to oil. Some even see it as an alternative to war, ambitious! At least one person believes that it saved his life. There are as many reasons for biking to work as there are people doing it, and most of us have more than one.

But I have never, ever heard anyone say, “I bike to work because it’s an expression of my individuality.” I’ve heard people say that about their hair, their clothes, their tattoos, their jewelry, their kitchens, their barbeques, and their lawns. People say it about their cars and motorcycles every day. After all, what’s a Hummer but an attempt to show the world your hairy swingin’ grapefruit-filled ballsack? But I’ve never heard anything remotely like, “I’m going to ride my bike to work and show the world who I am!” (Well, okay, there’s these guys, but to be fair, lookin’ hip is their business, and business is good.)

Which leads me to conclude that this commenter’s “experience” isn’t worth a shot of warm spit.

…in a city like DC, there is ample public transport. Taking a bike is not a practical choice, but some other kind of choice.

Au contraire, mon frer. If we leave the Brookland station of the Red Line, you on the train, and I on my bike, and we both head for Capitol South, I will have been waiting for you for about 20 minutes when you emerge from the station, and that’s if I’ve waited at every red light on the way. I will also be eating a breakfast sandwich, paid for with the $4 I’ve saved from not taking the train both ways. I will also have an extra one to three hours of my day that you do not have, due to your slower mode of transit, and the hour that you now need to spend at the gym to make up for your suffocating cubicle-based job. A gym which, I must remind you, requires lighting, air conditioning, and power so that you can watch television while spinning your hamster wheel.

Tell me again about practicality?

And so long as we’re talking public transportation, let’s return to your original point about selfishness. If you’re driving your automobile (I’ll even assume that it’s not a Ford Excursion for sake of argument) to work in this city, contributing to congestion, pollution, lack of parking, and a general decline in the quality of life for everyone else when there’s ample public transport available, then who’s being selfish?

If you drive a car and are honest about your observations, you know that the lives of bikers are entirely dependent on your driving accuracy and attention in a way that other drivers’ lives are not — you are behind tons of steel, and they are exposed. It’s just that simple — a huge risk, with utterly predictable tragic consequences for some bikers and their poor families. It’s just not a risk worth defending.

Living life in a steel box, decoupled from people and terrain, spending precious moments of a finite life hating everything is not worth defending. Vainly attempting to meet our transportation needs by escalating car-centric solutions is not worth defending. Destroying the livability of a city by accommodating the selfish desires of suburban car commuters, at the expense of our quality of life, is not worth defending. Continuing this way of life that’s wrecking the environment, changing the climate, miring us in middle-east geopolitical conflicts and transferring trillions of dollars of our wealth into the coffers of foreign dictators while our economy continues to degrade is not worth defending.

Riding bikes certainly involves some risk, but the stakes are high and the upside is huge. I think the risk is well worth defending.

I had an errand to run downtown today, and I got an early jump on it so I could ride in the relative cool of the morning before we head towards the upper 80’s (which is a nice break from the upper 90’s we’ve had for the past couple days). My old commute to Capitol South flowed down the east side of the city, through residential areas that I’ve found to be pretty mellow traffic-wise. Often I’d float along, keeping up with traffic or even passing it by, and notice that the people in the cars weren’t having any fun. I’d sorta feel sorry for ‘em.

This morning’s route cut southwest across the city on some much busier streets, which left me feeling more vulnerable and brought my adrenaline up a bit. I found trouble on the way, getting into a spirited disagreement with a fellow commuter. The odd thing was that on any of the multi-lane, really busy streets, I was able to ride in and with traffic without trouble. But going south on 4th St NW through beautiful LeDroit Park (which is a slow, narrow street featuring a series of speed bumps), a motorist gave me an unfriendly honk before passing me dangerously. He also advised me that I should be riding on the sidewalk, and that the street was no bike lane. He also said, “fuck” quite a bit between the other words.

Now, the gentleman clearly was unaware of the municipal codes regarding bicycling on city streets, or the law regarding passing another vehicle safely and legally. Traffic ahead of us was stopped, passing me gained him nothing, so it’s unclear what advantage he was pursuing.

But none of that concerned me much at that point. What did concern me was the rather cavalier regard this hostile motorist had for my safety. Closely following the startled fear was intense, red-hot anger that I associate with car commuting. I loudly explained to him that I was well within my rights to be riding on the road, and that I was traffic.

It would be a lie of omission if I didn’t also mention that I used two shorthand terms that 1.) accused him of having sexual relations with his mother, and 2.) asserted that he was a provider of oral sex to men. (Please don’t construe this as meaning that I disparage those who are skilled at fellatio, it makes the world a better place, salute.) He attempted to rebut my points, but I let him know that I was no longer interested in continuing the discussion, and then invited him to stop talking. The words “fuck” and “fucking” were sprinkled liberally throughout my invitation.

Well, that didn’t get either of us anywhere. I’m reasonably certain that our discussion didn’t result in his rethinking his beliefs on sharing the road, and for my part I came away trying to remember how that Supreme Court decision came out regarding handguns in D.C., and whether or not I could apply for a bike-mount holster permit. And I don’t like either of those results.

One of the reasons I despise driving in the city is that driving among people who are casual about safety and oblivious to the flow of the world around them annoys the shit out of me, which accumulates over the course of the trip and converts to rage. And I don’t like being that way, especially when I’m piloting a few thousand pounds of metal. Bicycling, on the other hand, frequently melts away whatever concerns I had when I got on the bike, and leaves me feeling more alive at the end of the trip than when I started. What’s not to like about that?

So this is disconcerting. I don’t want to go back to the world of road rage, and I don’t want to inspire it in my fellow citizens. I’m mostly friendly to motorists and give them the benefit of the doubt when they violate my vehicular rights, because everyone makes mistakes, right? I’ve certainly pulled boneheaded maneuvers.

But there’s thousands of drivers in this town whose attitudes towards sharing the road with cyclists range between dull-edged apathy to aggressive hostility. It’s beyond my abilities to do anything about them, so I’m trying to figure out what to do about me, but some part of me thinks that without strong infrastructural support and traffic enforcement from the city, this is just how it’s going to be. Until the city actually treats us like traffic, the public won’t either.

I don’t know, ultimately I need to learn how to blow these things off, especially in those circumstances when my gorge rises because I feel like my safety’s been threatened. What do you do?

NOTE: I updated verb tense in a couple places, and made a couple edits for clarity.

I had to come in early this morning to work on a server migration. Waking up at 4:15 a.m. sucked out loud, but hitting the streets at 4:45 under the low light of a cloud covered early morning was superb. It’s a perfectly refreshing 60 degrees or so, and there’s a medium wind out of the north that made it feel like I was sailing, on a broad reach, all the way down here.

And there’s barely a car on the road. Yummy.

First off, just got word from a friend that design and construction of the Metropolitan Branch Trail is back on! Though this news may not shake the foundations of D.C., it’s a big fat deal in our neck of the woods:

Note: This map was taken and adapted from WashingtonsBestAddress.com. Kinda says it all about how D.C. feels about Brookland and company, doesn’t it?

The current commute options involve routes with shoulderless stretches on major arterials that people around here mistake for freeways. Once you’ve made your way to the south or west of the big, blank NE section you see on the map, things improve dramatically. But our part of D.C. is, if not quite cut off, surrounded by routes that increase the pucker factor when riding with the kids.

So having a North/South connection to bike-friendlier routes will be delightful. They’re also going to connect the Metropolitan Branch Trail with the Northwest Branch Trail in West Hyattsville, as well as connecting it to the Capitol Crescent Trail up in Silver Springs (and that’s gonna be a real nice loop, by gawd). Great news!

And then there’s this: my wife said something really, really sweet to me last night.

She prefaced by mentioning how for her whole life, she’s always liked beater bikes, and never cared much about performance or tune. And how, when it comes to tools and things I use frequently, the reasons I research and obsess and will spend more for one over another have always eluded her (but she knows that about me and loves me anyway).

But she’s been riding my Long Haul Trucker quite a bit lately, and she told me last night that it is the nicest bike she’s ever ridden. She mentioned that, at first, it felt kinda twitchy to her, and she didn’t like the position. But since then, she’s really gotten to like it, and she’s never ridden a bike that felt that good.

Needless to say, I’m still turned on. “By your Girly or your Surly?” you quip cleverly. I can only reply, “Yes.”