I got a sharrow here bro
No meato burrito to go
Rainier Beer for here
Are we clear
Fixing a flat in the rain. Fingers so fucking cold I can’t feel them. Hands completely black with road grime. When the profanity is out of the way I like to take a moment, take a deep breath, laugh and be thankful. Sometimes this job sucks but at least I’m not a dispatcher.
Union Street at 7th Avenue at 11:53am on Wednesday my non-drive side pedal broke. A big chunk of metal snapped off and stuck to my shoe briefly before it clanked in the street. I was pissed off for about 15 seconds on my ride up to 300 East Pike. I mean Pine... yeah Pine. After that I took a minute to think about the history of those pedals. Pedals I got used at the messenger bike swap that took place in Alor’s backyard on rain soaked Saturday a few years ago. They were in the free pile of leftover shit that no one wanted to take back. (see photo) So I took them and I rode them for a few years of work on the RB-2. Years of messenger use or abuse added to the abuse they got before I adopted them. Not exactly pampered. No weekend warrior fluffy shit. These pedals clipped in and clipped out about 1.3 gazillion times and finally on Wednesday one of them broke. The pair is actually still 75% functional and if I didn’t have another pair in storage I’d be riding them today.
At several intersections around Seattle there are cameras that take your picture when you run a red light. A while later you get your citation in the mail when they track you down by your license plate. Running the light on a bike trips the camera at Denny and Fairview. I’ve seen the flash go off several times over the years as I’ve rolled through that light on my way to work. I’d like to get my hands on all those photos of me and create a compilation. Same time, same guy, same intersection, different day, different year, different bikes, different season, different weather conditions, different wardrobe decisions.
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