So I rode. And lived. I commuted to work this morning by bicycle.
Studio City to Sherman Oaks in 20 minutes to accommodate nerves, a mountain bike that would rather see dirt, and drivers who have yet to go hands-free. I got warped by a wannabe Lance Armstrong and his shiny pants. I got strange looks from outdoor patrons at a Starbucks. And I almost bit it near the Scrubs hospital because the crew was blocking the bike lane – which they always do.
But, I made it. I rode past a Chevron advertising gas at $4.73 a gallon for unleaded, and I smiled. Yes, I will have to stop there at some point and fill up the Jeep again. Yes, it will probably be more than $4.73 when I do. (Travis spotted $5.02 in Studio City just last night.) But, at least I won’t have to do it today.
I want to thank everyone that dropped a comment yesterday with their bike tips. Maybe you are the “macho bike Kulture anti-ped-anti-car evangelists” that El Chavo claims. But I think it says a lot that a group of such die-hards would be so willing to welcome to another bike on the street.
Even if I refuse to wear the shiny pants.