rule zero of bicycle commuting
DON’T BE A PUSSY.
It rained last night so the streets were still pretty wet this morning. They’ve torn up an entire mile of my ride – California all the way to Damen – and there was more rain forecast for today. Hmmm, wet streets plus torn up street plus more rain on the way? Maybe I’m better off not riding.
Wrong. WRONG.
It didn’t rain any more today to speak of. My folder has full fenders, anway. So what did I do? I rode the bus. In theory I have no problem with the bus. In practice, well, it fucking sucks. They’re rarely on time and the one today smelled like somebody puked Wild Irish Rose all over it and the windows seemed to be covered in some sticky substance from the inside. The reality of the situation is that I hate the fuckin’ bus.
So much so that I walked the 4 miles home. Probably got at least one blister from my practical but steel toed shoes – fine for sitting at a desk, standing around the shop or crawling all about a railcar but not so good for walking.
Bought a lottery ticket on the way. If I win the 45 million this Friday the 13th, I’m putting in a roof full of solar panels, a wind turbine and a Listeroid generator setup fueled by B100, WVO and waste oil. Plus crafting a lifestyle where I don’t have to drive anywhere unless I want to. With no job, you ain’t got to commute, dig?
I can’t think of anything I’d rather do on a daily basis than ride my bicycle around.