I HAVE THE INFO

Does everyone know that Dave Chappelle bit? The one where his white friend Chip is driving him someplace all crunked up, and decides, appropo of nothing, that he is gonna race the guy in the car next to him. The other guy doesn’t even know he’s racing him.

And then they get pulled over by a cop.

Thats my commute, pretty much any time I roll up next to anybody on Chesnut street on the way in.

I keep trying to take mental notes on my ride in about all the different things I see, so I can try and present some kind of cogent narrative of what it is to ride into work. Its hard to keep it all straight in my head though, as I rode in at 8am today and its now 11pm.

Ride starts with a very gentle climb out to West Chester pike and then an immediate sharp descent. I usually spin up to 34 MPH here by the time I hit the gully at the bottom. There is a small incline that lasts for about 2 blocks here, I am typically still going 20+ MPH by the time I get to the top. If the lights are timed right, I usually am in Milbourne and out of ‘downtown’ Upper Darby in under 4 minutes.

Then there is the shit shoot. West Chester Pike becomes Market street. Market street is a total friggin mess because SEPTA can’t seem to finish working on the track right near Cobbs Creek Parkway. This stretch of road is maybe more fucked up then when I started riding out to Stephanie’s house from my old apartment in Fairmount in 2004. Tons of cinders, broken glass, industrial staples, dead birds, you name it.
Going on the right side is fraught with danger. Cars are always moving closer to the Jersey barrier. Its a total buzz kill after the speed of the inital descent. You always have to proceed with caution here.

Then there is a tight turn and a push up a hill to Chesnut street. I usually gun it here because cars can get some speed coming thru that light. You have to be careful.

Left on Chesnut.

And then its smooth sailing for the next 45 blocks to my office building.

Yeah right.

The 60s are over and done with before I can yawn.

The 50s are a slough. It seems like the 50s are mostly uphill, both on the way in on Chesnut and on the way out on Walnut.

I always cringe when I come by that McDonalds. Some dumbass cut me tried to cut me off there one time trying to get into their drive thru.

I mean, how totally shitty would it be to be maimed by some asshole who had to have a Big Mac. More people need to see super size me. I don’t even care if they get obese or not. It will make the roads safer.

I totally cursed him out. He totally chased me. I wonder if he still went to McDonalds after he was done yelling back at me.

In the 40s things get more fun. There is a downhill right by the Toyota dealership. If you hit it right, and don’t miss the lights, you can fly here. The nice part is hitting the hills after it, and while going up, looking down to see that you are doing 22-23MPH and keep pacing with commuters…in their cars.

Traffic gets thick as you approach university city. I’ve learned though, that traffic is actually the best thing for a bicycle commuter. Here is why: If cars are moving, but in the 15-25 MPH zone, you can move into car lanes. Motorist tend to not honk in this situation. They know they are in it for the long haul and not getting anywhere faster.

This is good for two reasons:

#1)Staying away from the door. As a rider who has been made intimate with several car doors in my travels, I have to say this is a big plus.

#2)Slipstream/drafting/motorpacing: I’ve been experimenting with this. It works!

So there are about 3 hills that are like this before you get to the big Paul Robeson mural. Traffic gets thicker even still here. But that also equals safety.

At this point, I start seeing familiar places. Places that bring back memories from college. Now, I didn’t go to Penn, but during winter and summer break, I used to work on painting and demolition crews in various campus buildings. I was what West Philly lifers now refer to as ‘trashers’. One day soon, I will write a blog post called ‘My life in trash’. not tonight.

In this part of my ride, I actually begin to run into other commuters. All kinds of folks. I salute you. But most of you are going very slow and I blow by you.

You don’t even know we are racing. This is probably part of the problem.

Saturday morning, I will be getting up at the crack of dawn for my first ever time trial. I expect it to be deeply humbling. I’ve done no prep work, unless blowing by people that don’t know we are racing counts. And my plan is to basically go at a speed way above my cruising pace in a gear bigger then my normal 38×14 for as long as I can.

In short, I have no idea what I am doing. Should be fun!