It's interesting riding a normal sized bike in normal clothing. Not used to "Anonymous, fast as car travel".

 It feels great to move so fast but dangerous because I can't see as much, so i feel half blind.

 Also I keep "parade-waving" to folks like I'm on a tall bike and they are looking at me like "Who is this douche?".

I just gotta remember to wave like a Dad and not like a crazy man who has an invisible parade in his head.

Another bit that's hard to get used to is how fragile this bike is. A collision with another bike would be a hospital trip. My nephew rode it once or twice and ruined the back wheel. Potholes and curbs taco the rims. My tall bike is like a Hum-V, it EATS other bikes and makes potholes bigger so I had to learn a mellower form of riding.

I inherited this road bike when a neighbor called "Edwin" painted the devil on the steel bridge one night with a pistol. I hear he liked me. When Chris gave me his bike, the batteries in the light were still good. That freaked me out to hold the very last bit of Edwin's potential energy on this flat Earff. I made sure to ride in the dark rather than kick the lights on for anything less than an epic mission. Now the batteries are long dead and quietly corroding in my tackle box. I have no idea how to store memorial artifacts that contain cadmium, lead and mercury.

(an hour after the above was written...)

I just almost got hit by a car. I was in front of our cave on a little bike when I hear the distinctive horn of a squad car. I froze and looked back to see a speeding gold car right about to cream me. I was precariously in the business end of a wild chase! They had been tailing him for a while and apparently he had made a long series of dangerous turns to evade the police. I jumped back and managed to avoid getting T-boned. I was about  seconds and inches that mattered.Before that my mind was on Olive and peaches...nowhere near this train wreck. 

The whole mess came to a stop blocking my front door. The guy fled in the first place because he had no licence or insurance, expired tags.. but once in our parking lot, his options narrowed to none. 

I can tell he was uninsured because the cop is telling the guy off loudly.

 "You almost hit that cyclist! I have three cars and I pay insurance on all of them, Am I missing something?".

They came to my crib and interviewed me. In their own special way they asked if i felt at all attempted murdered...I said no, I asked them to offer him clemency because i too was once a real dum dum (he was a black version of me) and he looks freaked out enough. So they all just left, he keeps his freedom,car but has a handful of tickets. He rightfully wouldn't let the law search his trunk so we will never know why he was so reckless. Emergency vehicles make different sounds from other vehicles for a reason. Today I was glad I was hip to that fact.

I'm thinking I should be an Urban Scout master!

Like what we do? Here is our virtual tip jar