One

It was the mixed-mode commute today: drive about one-third of the way then unfold the Dahon and ride. I hadn’t ridden too far when it occurred to me to check how late I was for work. Hmm. No clock. It appears I’d forgotten to pick up the bike computer before I left. There was a time, not so long ago, that I didn’t even own a bike speedometer—now I’m such a mileage weenie that if I’d left from home, I’d have turned around to get it. Oh well, I’d just have to ride by feel and see how it goes.

I found it rather relaxing not having the clock, not feeling that I should push for an extra 1 or 2km/h just so that I could make a nice round number appear on the speedo. It’s actually one of my private pleasures of riding in the dark: my clock doesn’t have an internal light so if it’s too dark to read the speedo, tough—just ride and enjoy it. But you rarely ride for long in complete darkness, and I never ride the whole way home without getting some kind of feedback. And, of course, I know the little box is still recording everything.

Gaah! It’s just occurred to me that I’ve turned into Lisa Simpson: “Grade me! Evaluate and rank me! I’m good, good, good and oh so smart! Grade meeeeee!!” Am I really that turned on by being measured? Ewwwww.

Anyway, I muddled through and logged a (conservative) “estimated” time for the (already known) distance.

Two

The morning was progressing well until I stood in the changing room at work and unfolded my clothing bundle for the day—no underwear. At all. Nothing. Socks, yes. Shirt, yes. Undies, no.

I take great care to ensure that the critical change room items are always at work. A new towel comes in before the old one is taken home for washing. Likewise with outer garments. But underwear, socks and shirts are circulated on a daily basis. Until today.

Much as making a presentation to the senior management team sans knickers would add a little extra frisson to an otherwise dull afternoon, I preferred not to go breezy all day. I guess I could’ve just put the bike knicks back on—but I also had the Useful Box on my side. In the Useful Box resides all manner of good stuff: chain lube, shoe polish, plastic bags, random items of clothing, old inner tubes, sunscreen, and so on. Luckily I found some (relatively) clean shorts in there that would do the job.

Every commuting cyclist should have a Useful Box (or some kind of gear stash) for mornings like this.

…and three?

They say these things come in threes. No other major blunders have beset me so far, but the day is not over yet…

More on related topics

• In praise of foggy mornings