Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Test flight

I got the injured Sekai frame back from the welder earlier this week early last week. While the weld might be the ugliest one I've ever seen (and believe me, I made some *ugly* welds back in my construction worker days), it appears solid enough. For now.

Earlier this week Early last week, Spearman and I had discussed the idea of hitting a local watering hole followed by Artomatic in NE DC, via bicycle. I figured that would be a not-too-strenuous inaugural fixie ride for me. After talking with Spearman about my frame and weld and the possibility (and ugliness) of a separated top-tube crash, I decided (at about 10:30pm the night before) that I wanted to put the rear brake back on. My thinking was that a disintegrating frame at 10-15mph was better than one at 20-25mph. My legs and poorly-aligned 27-year-old front brake would not be enough to keep my speed down on some of the descents through Arlington. The job of re-adding the brake would have been much easier had I not used my cable cutter to sever the original brake cables and housing when I removed them in the first place. C'est la vie. An hour (and a few parts stripped from various other horses in the stable) later and my Sekai was ready to go. As far as I could tell.

After work (last) Wednesday, I drove down to Arlington, parked the truck, mounted the Sekai and pedaled (and pedaled and pedaled and pedaled) a couple of miles into Georgetown. Spearman and I spent a few hours BSing and partaking of some extremely tasty brews. Primarily Lagunitas Maximo (from the cask) for me. Quite tasty, but very powerful magic.

After putting away a number of the liquid courages, we remounted our bikes and headed east the 30 or so blocks to Artomatic. I had high hopes of seeing a good bit of the 10-floor, 1,000-artist exhibit, but after lingering at the bar longer than expected, we were left with limited time for broadening our artistic horizons.

The 6th floor was the home of the "visual arts" displays. I knew of at least one friend who's work was hanging there, so we decided to start (and end) our tour there. After a single lap of the floor, with 11pm fast approaching and a not-entirely-sober ride across the city ahead of us, we decided to call it a night and head west.

The ride back to Georgetown and over the Key Bridge was uneventful (as far as I can remember). The ride up Mount Rosslyn was uneventful but damn painful. I made it perhaps half-way up the hill before I had to dismount and take a nice near-midnight stroll. Once I crested the hill, I remounted and eventually caught up with Spearman who had turned back around to see what had happened to me.

Another mile up the road and we were back at my truck where I hitched up the bike, bid adieu to my partner in crime and headed for home, well sober by this point from all the incessant pedaling. Damn fixed gear bikes.

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