Day 4, Evening Commute (20 miles)
I GOT MY BIKE BACK!!!!!!1
The bike shop, we'll call it Shop A, built me a new fork (pearlescent pink to match my fenders) and a new front wheel, put on a pair of handlebars I already had, and gave me a new stem. Frankly, though, I'm not satisfied with my experience there. I had to call them probably 10 times over the last month and a half to get updates; they only once called me back, despite repeatedly promising to give me an update. They built the fork and waited to do all the other work after it was done, even though they could've done everything else (build the new wheel, put on the handlebars and stem) beforehand and then just slapped the fork in. They had questions for me that held it up, but they never called me -- I had to call them and then they said, "Oh, we were waiting because we need to know if we can go with X instead of Y." WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST CALL ME AND ASK?! They wrapped the bar tape so badly part of the bare bar is sticking out, and although I asked them to paint the new stem to match the fork, they didn't do that (by the time I found out, I decided just to live with it because it'd take so long to get the darn thing painted). Their customer service, in a word, sucked.
Now I feel like I need to have somebody I trust go over their work to make sure that everything's done right. The brake/shifters look twisted to me, and I don't think the handlebars and front wheel are aligned right.
Anyway, I rode home on the repaired bike and it wasn't the heavenly experience I hoped for, but I have to give them credit for building a really nice fork. It was a nice evening but with a steady headwind. Is a pattern emerging here...?? Oh, rode up Dexter and then got stopped for the first time ever at the Fremont Bridge as they opened it to let a boat through. Alas, I didn't really get a view. I think all of Seattle was out on the BG between Fremont and the UW.
Day 5, Morning Commute (20 miles)
Gorgeous morning. Sunny, clear, tailwind () most of the way; through the haze I saw the Olympics, Mt. Rainier, and the Cascades. I caught up with my mother, who had left the house a bit earlier than me but was gawking at the mountains. We rode together through Kirkland to Bellevue Way, where we split off (she sang "You take the low road and I'll take the high road..." because she rode up Bellevue Way and I turned onto Northup). So it was a very nice start to the ride. The tailwind was delightful, it was sunny, and I was on my almost-finished repaired bike. Things could hardly get better. I am having to readjust to the gearing on my bike, which is low but not nearly as low as the rental bike. I'm having to work harder on my normal bike, but I'm also going faster, so...
At least, so I thought. Then I got a free jersey at one of the Cascade swag giveaway stops. Granted, it says F5 really big all over it, but free's free.
Then things got really uncomfortable. I rode up to my work doorway -- it's also a bike parking facility -- and a guy was standing there. He was fairly short and skinny, had long-ish curly blond hair, huge sunglasses and a bandanna on, and wore a "Hempfest" T-shirt. Since he was right in the doorway and I couldn't avoid him, I said, "Hi."
Him: Oh, um, hi, I can't get in.
Me: Do you have your card?
Him: [Pulls out a card and swipes. Sure enough, it doesn't work] I just want to get in and get my bikes. I have a Schwinn and a Kona in there.
Me: OK, well, I can't let you in if your card doesn't work. (This is the parking facility's rule, and I'm not about to break it for a stranger in a hempfest T-shirt.)
Him: I just want to get my bikes. My bikes are in there.
Me: I believe you, but I can't let you in.
Him: [Stares at me]
Me: It opens at 9:00. You can come back then and get your card reactivated.
Him: But...dude...I just want my bikes.
Me: I can't let you in. Please step away from the door.
Him: [Doesn't move]
Me: Could you please move away from the doorway so I can open the door?
Him: [Saunters over to the other side of the doorway, away from the card swipe] I'll hold the door for you.
Me: No, please don't. Step away from the door.
Him: [Doesn't move. We stand there looking at each other for a while.]
Me: [I decide to swipe in and see what happens, since I have to get in eventually]
I swipe the door start to maneuver me and my bike through the door. He grabs the door and holds it. I look at him, then start to walk in. He goes to follow me inside. I stop and say:
Me: You can't come in. Don't come in.
Him: I just want my bikes.
Me: I can't let you in. Don't come in.
He steps closer. I put my hand on his chest and physically push him away.
Me: NO. GO AWAY. You can't come in. (I had to say this quite loudly and firmly, although inside I was freaking out)
He pauses, looking confused, and I rush myself and the bike inside, pulling the door closed behind me. I've never felt better about hearing that door lock shut behind me.
Whew. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: Working in Pioneer Square is never boring.



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) most of the way; through the haze I saw the Olympics, Mt. Rainier, and the Cascades. I caught up with my mother, who had left the house a bit earlier than me but was gawking at the mountains. We rode together through Kirkland to Bellevue Way, where we split off (she sang "You take the low road and I'll take the high road..." because she rode up Bellevue Way and I turned onto Northup). So it was a very nice start to the ride. The tailwind was delightful, it was sunny, and I was on my almost-finished repaired bike. Things could hardly get better. I am having to readjust to the gearing on my bike, which is low but not nearly as low as the rental bike. I'm having to work harder on my normal bike, but I'm also going faster, so...
It took my mentioning it to the good folks at
Happily, no exciting stories on this commute. Just a normal day.
