||[Jun. 23rd, 2016|09:53 pm]
sprockets, sockets, grommets & gaskets
Colorado's version of bike to work week. I rode home on Mon, rode in on Tues, drove the other parts. Wed, I had planned to ride up to Boulder and meet friends and ride into work from there but that was going to be 85 miles round trip, and I just didn't have the energy for that. Instead I drove to Boulder and we rode in together. It was the official bike to work day, during which a lot of local places open up shop and hand out free food.|
There were more cyclists in Boulder than there was food.
Tire-to-tire lines of cyclists in both directions on all the paths we went on, which was a problem when trailers were going both directions. That points out the bandwidth problem with separate-but-equal bike paths. You can fit a TON of bikes on a road alongside car traffic, but it doesn't take much to saturate a bike path.
When we were on roads, there were roughly as many bikes as cars.
That stopped in a hurry once we got out of Boulder, of course. It was still a ton of fun.
As we were heading out of Boulder we were on a tense bit where they're repaving, so there's a single lane, and it really is a single lane. We were hauling along but even as a construction zone it's still 45mph so cars were going faster than us, and there was not a lot of room.
But that's fine, right? It's Boulder. People expect bikes.
Until a white Subaru pulls up and honks as it is passing me and a moment later the driver yells "get off the road!"
I waved my fist and yelled "you get off the road, asshole!" and kept going.
A few minutes later I got a text, from my manager's manager. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was joking. I forgot you don't recognize faces."
I'm all WUT because he drives a Lexus. He said "I'm driving my wife's car today!"
He was apologetic. I was apologetic. I ride with this guy almost every day and feel kind of awkward now, and he does too.
I was talking to cyclelicious about this and he said he'd experienced something similar and he too reacted poorly to jokes of that sort.
We ended up cruising up to Boulder at a nice reasonable pace, save for the very end where we took to a packed dirt/gravel path. I love hauling along there like a maniac, going through turns just hard enough that I'm drifting the rear tire. One of my coworkers said "it looked like you were going so fast smoke was coming off your tires" because of the dust.
At lunch another coworker came by, not knowing I'd ridden (halfway) in, and asked if I wanted to go riding. Well, I didn't actually work very hard in the AM, so, sure. We went out on a nice wandery route. Near the end I said I was actually fairly tired, and quite soon thereafter he said "let's race at the finish: first one to the top of the hill!"
He did better than he expected. He's slowly increasing in speed. He's too skinny, like "send this boy to camp" skinny, and I am trying to turn him into a sprinter and hillclimber. We talked some about sprint strategy.
I calculated it would take me 40 minutes to ride back to Boulder. Usually it takes me 35 but I gave myself a little extra. Then I added twenty minutes for safety, because I was meeting people that night. Then, half an hour before that deadline I started checking the weather. "no wind, 10% chance of rain" every five minutes until about fifteen minutes before the deadline, at which point the wind and rain hit. The weather place still said no wind, despite cardboard boxes blowing down the street. They were heading _directly_ against the direction I needed to go, so I chucked everything and started riding. I was struggling to maintain half my normal average speed. Phoo.
Oh well. Got down there, drove home, showered, was done exactly when I needed to be heading out.
This collection was walking up the street just as I was about to leave.
There are five dogs in this picture. One is right behind another to the right.
Then off to a great dinner -- not as good as the one we had with elusis on Monday, but still pretty good. Enchiladas in mole sauce. Zowie.
So, today, drove to work. Coworkers tried to talk me into riding home, then riding in and meeting them for breakfast tomorrow. I just don't have the time so I bowed out. Guess which way the wind was blowing, at huge speeds, that would have pushed me home at previously undreamt-of velocity? It was goading me.
When I was driving home today I stopped for gas. Standing around thinking uffish thoughts whilst washing the windows as the gas pump chugs, and I hear this "sir?" from behind me. I turned around and there was this woman, with a ... Russian? accent, very strong, clearly struggling to find English words. She had a tight dress, giant heels, fancy makeup, like, I was tempted to look behind me to see who she was actually talking to. But no, she was talking to me. She said her car smelled hot. She had what I suspect was a right-off-the-lot Lexus. I opened the hood and looked around, checked the oil level, made sure there was water in the overflow tank, cautioned her against opening the radiator cap itself (but it didn't feel super hot) and generally said I thought the car was okay. She was almost awkwardly effusive in her gratitude. Had it been Spain I would have thought I was about to get my pockets picked. It was just slightly odd.
I got home, walked the dog, then took everything off the deck, swept it, and did half the pressure washing before we etch the concrete tomorrow and seal it on Saturday.
For dinner, on a dare, manintheboat made cauliflower lamb meatloaf.
It was fantastic.