I'm No Hipster

In the parlance of cycling lingo, I'm no hipster. In fact, I might be closer to a Fred. I do not have a singlespeed, do not have a star tattoo on my wrist (in fact, I have no tattoos. I don't look down on those who do, except maybe if they're stupid about it, it's just not my bag.), and I don't wear a beanie and listen to Kraftwerk. I don't roll up the right leg of my pants to ride, and I usually wear bright colors, including neon, to stand out. It's a side effect of being hit-and-run.

I did, however, visit my pseudo-hipster roots this week when my beautiful Honda was in the shop. I commuted to work on my bike. It's been quite a long time since I did it, and I have to say I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it. It was a nice little jaunt. I saw, along the way:

-- Two guys in a square-bottomed boat, one of whom had a sizable fish on

-- A lot of people looking at me like I was crazy, and an equal number of people who were equally disinterested in me

-- A car full of young kids. I thought they might be trouble when they pulled up next to me with the windows down, but then I heard a terrible noise. Apparently, one of them had just bought a fart-machine and wired it through the stereo. Not only gross, but loud. He'd hit it and they laughed uncontrollably, then hit it again. The process played out couple of times (it's a long light) and I thought for a second and decided too play along. After one horrifically long and juicy blast, followed by guffaws, I looked over at the kid in the passenger seat and said, "You might want to have that looked by a doctor." They just howled, laughing as they pulled away.

-- It might just be me, but I saw a lot more people riding to work on bicycles.

-- An owl

-- It's easier to do hills now that I am in decent shape. That being said, I couldn't figure out why I was having a harder time on Friday. Then it occurred to me: I was carrying a 20+ pound pack on my back with my clothes and work stuff. I remembered when I started, and I was carrying those 20+ pounds on my gut.

-- I got home and really didn't want the ride to end. I found my car was ready and Mrs. Fish and Little Fish were off to see Fame (Verdict: Save your money). BONUS! That gave me a little over an hour to get to my car. I hopped back on my bike and pedalled as afst as I could, reaching the shop right before sundown. All's well that ends well.