All joking aside, my 2009 mileage just passed 100 miles somewhere Mid-Wilshire this evening. And, to be fair, Will’s mileage already stands at a healthy 246.771 miles. And finally, my layman’s understanding of a century is that one is supposed to ride it all in one go (I, on the other hand, took 8 rides and just over a week).
But still. It’s cool to see mileage tick upwards.
In other news this evening, Steelhorse LA decided to flyer my bike again (does this mean that you don’t care if I’m not riding a fixie and just look like it sometimes?). And I had to laugh a moment at a battered Toyota Camry that pulled poorly into traffic on Burton Way on my ride home tonight: In the back windshield, a faded sticker read, Proud to be an American. You tell them, my friend.
Beverly Hills gets kind of a bad rap: Rude drivers, expensive cars, a complete lack of marked bike lanes, more expensive cars, stupid people, dark streets, the list goes on. But I was thinking a little bit on the ride home tonight that I actually really like my stretch of ride through that strange little city. Sure, the stretch on Santa Monica South feels a little perilous, but Burton Way more than evens the score (and for the map of this ride, see here). Buttery-smooth pavement, empty shoulders (because everyone in Beverly Hills has their own driveway), lights timed that you can just roll on green if you’re hustling. When the wind is right, you can smell the steak at Morton’s while you’re waiting for the light at La Cienega to change.
And as for rollin’ deep: It was no critical mass (Did anyone ride that the other day? How did it go?), but I passed a guy holding steady on a blue cruiser in traffic: iPod in, lepoard-print Vans, lights front and back. We waited a light cycle at Wilshire, and he caught me at the next couple reds. Didn’t do much more than nod, but for a moment, Beverly Hills felt pretty bike-friendly after all.