Beautiful Morning

This morning was beautiful. The break in the heat and humidity ever so welcome. I've said it before and continue the practice...my commute is not a race, it is not a training ride, it's just a ride. I respect the 17 stop signs through Alexandria. I am patient with slower riders, walkers or runners, waiting until it makes sense to pass. I take pause, exercise caution, in areas where I know other riders have a tendency to be a bit irresponsible.

Today had some very good examples. When I ride in, I cross the Woodrow Wilson Bridge (the I-95 crossing of the Potomac River). To connect to Royal Street to cross Alexandria, I go down alongside the bridge and under it. I don't bomb that descent for two reasons. One is the very tight left hander at the bottom into a path with jersey wall separating directions of travel and chainlink fence on the other side. Not enough room to take it with a lot of speed The other is that I regularly watch others come out from there too fast, swinging their right hander wide as if there was absolutely no way a rider could be coming the other way. Sure enough this morning, one such rider came blasting out of the right hander. I watched it from halfway down the descent.

As I cleared the narrow trail - construction is on going and the slapdash pavement they threw down is lumpier than packed dirt/gravel was - two commuters who can only be described as Freds rolled past me. They aren't aggressively blowing through the stop signs, they aren't riding fast enough for that, but they aren't slowing at all either. I am amused, as their pace doesn't distance them from me much while I respect the stop signs - no I don't full stop, but I do slow significantly. I look ahead and shake my head. He's wearing brown corduroys (or so they appeared to be) without having rolled up the right leg. No it's not getting caught in the drive train, but it's getting very greasy. Doh! She's got her capris on, her helmet at something of a jaunty angle.

Beyond them, I see that they're working on the road, narrowing it to one lane, with a solo flagger working the traffic control. The Freds are a few bike lengths beyond the intersection, waiting for the flagger. I chuckle as I clear the stop sign and move into the service road proceeding unhindered by the construction and the flagger. Strange, they never caught back up to me.

At the far end of Alexandria, I opt to stay on the road rather than ride a small section of trail that is narrow, the foliage isn't cut back and it has a fair number of root heaves. I stop at the red light where I'll make my right turn to hook up with the Mt Vernon Trail a block down and parallel the GW Parkway along the river for a while. It's a no turn on red intersection because you can't see what's coming - angle of the bend in the road and landscaping give you no sightlines at all. No problem. I grab my bottle. A Porsche Carrera pulls up next to me, windows down, sun roof open. "Swap you for a day," I offer. The driver chuckles. "I don't doubt you could handle this car, but I don't think I could handle your bike." We chat about the weather, how many miles my commute is, that sort of thing. Both of us are simply enjoying the fabulous morning. While we're chatting, one cyclist, then another, opt to go around us, ignore the no turn on red sign and ride away. Well, they sure showed me! After all, I was having a great time, enjoying my ride and the day and a chat with a random stranger...surely they're decision to ignore the red light, no turn on red and the risks to themselves and others was the right way to go. After all, the second one made it all the way to the next red light before I caught up to him.