I was late in the office tonight. I don’t like to be, but when it’s time to leave I actually enjoy riding home through the dark. So I mounted the cam on my handlebars, set it to take a low-res snap every second and then rode home. Here’s what the hour trip from Westchester to …
Of all the things I’ve seen while cycling 4,200 miles of the city’s streets this past eight months, such scenes with me are seldom more than the most fleetingly glimpsed (click to triplify). Here’s to being a thousand miles away from my revised goal and maybe getting a thousand more miles past it before the …
I knew as much, but a quick search of the Google shows me that I didn’t coin the term “indignorance,” which can best be defined by the statements of one angeleno named Graham A. Rowe in a letter to the editor he wrote to the Wall Street Journal, responding to that paper’s entirely slanted and …
Damn but on my rides in to work and back home today, the bike’s rolling tight. With everything battened down it travels like new without making a sound. Small consolation for the pain I endured Sunday getting it to this point. See first, I re-greased the stem and got rid of the snap-crackly sound that …
Westbound on Venice Boulevard I just biked across La Cienega Boulevard.
At the end of the battle and not without tears streaming down my face I stood with the tattered remains of my vanquished foe held high before the front window where my Susan looked out at me. “I do not quit,” I said in a quiet and quivering voice. And my Susan left the window …
A front page feature in today’s Wall Street Journal does a pretty good job perpetuating that tired old stance of Los Angeles as a cyclist’s endless hell. I’m not saying its heaven on wheels out there, but it’s not covered wall-to-wall in broken glass with psycho ando/or drunk drivers lurking around every corner as the …