Rides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.
- We are scientists, too!
10.10.2007,8:45 AM
October Day Commute
"Excuse me, sir, but please don't tailgate me on the bike. If you rear end me I'll hurt a lot more than you, but you'll be paying for it."
A dark brown pickup truck tailgated my rear end for the third time this morning on the road to and into the parking lot. I have a rule: Three strikes and you're out. After I pulled into my parking spot and removed myself off the saddle, I sauntered over to his truck where it was parked and politely suggested that he maintain more space between his vehicle and any motorcycle in front of him, especially me. I mentioned that this morning was the third time he's followed too close. I smiled and walked back to the bike.
52 degrees Fahrenheit at 4:30 am. That's cold. An extra long sleeved shirt, jeans today under the winter riding pants, polar fleece neck gaiter, winter gloves and the heated grips came on before I entered the road from home. It was a brisk ride. I want the warmth back. I don't mind riding in the heat.
Odors are stronger in the cold. Thicker, lingering, heavy, and not always pleasant. Riding past a refinery assaults my senses. I breathe shallowly until I'm past it enough for clean air. I long for crisp mountain or desert air. Clean air.
The sun is rising over the haze of the city as I view it from my lab window on the thirteenth floor. Soon I'll be in the mountains of Tennessee, away from this haze and fumes that creep into my lab and office through the ventilation system. Cursed with a hypersensitive sense of smell, I'm the departmental 'canary' for odors and fumes. A better ventilation system is scheduled for installation this winter.
Time to play with E. coli, my friends.
A dark brown pickup truck tailgated my rear end for the third time this morning on the road to and into the parking lot. I have a rule: Three strikes and you're out. After I pulled into my parking spot and removed myself off the saddle, I sauntered over to his truck where it was parked and politely suggested that he maintain more space between his vehicle and any motorcycle in front of him, especially me. I mentioned that this morning was the third time he's followed too close. I smiled and walked back to the bike.
52 degrees Fahrenheit at 4:30 am. That's cold. An extra long sleeved shirt, jeans today under the winter riding pants, polar fleece neck gaiter, winter gloves and the heated grips came on before I entered the road from home. It was a brisk ride. I want the warmth back. I don't mind riding in the heat.
Odors are stronger in the cold. Thicker, lingering, heavy, and not always pleasant. Riding past a refinery assaults my senses. I breathe shallowly until I'm past it enough for clean air. I long for crisp mountain or desert air. Clean air.
The sun is rising over the haze of the city as I view it from my lab window on the thirteenth floor. Soon I'll be in the mountains of Tennessee, away from this haze and fumes that creep into my lab and office through the ventilation system. Cursed with a hypersensitive sense of smell, I'm the departmental 'canary' for odors and fumes. A better ventilation system is scheduled for installation this winter.
Time to play with E. coli, my friends.
Labels: commuting
