0 comment Saturday, September 27, 2014 | admin
Today I had an afternoon commute from DU to my office on 13th and Speer and I decided that with such fine weather I should make a lap or two around Wash Park before succumbing to the florescent lighting and misbehavin' children. This time of year, on a beautiful day like today, it's not uncommon to see loads of spandex and jogging strollers. I, however, got to experience a whole kind of new spring fever. As I was leaving the park a couple came up behind me and waited with me to cross Virginia. She - tank top and spandex, no helmet. He - tank top and red shorts, no helmet, cigar (lit) in his mouth. He coughed as he approached me and as soon as the smoke made its way to me, I followed suit. Traffic eased and we cruised up the bike lane my road bike leading the way. We were stopped at Alameda (site of the infamous to me "I thought you were with me" busting out into traffic debacle, but I digress) and there was a motorcycle cop on the far corner with a speed gun. Cigar cyclists muttered "Must be [wire] tapping someone on the block," with all seriousness and his wife just sort of chuckled. He grimaced, exhaled a large plume and I remarked, "At least he could slow 'em down and let us go." The cop must have heard my comment as he quickly nabbed the next three speeding cars creating the break in traffic smoker, wifey and I needed to continue on our way. I pedaled hard... creating enough space so that I might breathe again.