Single Speed

Bringing my bicycle to Washington was one of the best decisions I could’ve made. Washington is teeming with life that metro and uber riders don’t experience. The city is alive and you become intimately familiar with every incline, every pothole, every glare from the steel and glass buildings towards K street. Instead of passively gazing out the window waiting for traffic, a bicycle lets you preview the vibrant smells and sounds of the restaurant before you arrive. I don’t hear the engine of the car; I hear different languages bickering while crossing the street.

There’s an inexplicable thrill that comes with the risk of riding along parked cars, wondering if they see you in their mirror or if they’ll open the door and take you out. I once forgot to put a Congressional Hearing on my calendar and my bosses called me to make sure I wasn’t in a bicycle wreck on my way to work.

I love the Capital Share Bike program, but I encourage you to ride your own bicycle. The bulky, cumbersome, red and yellow beasts leave you yearning for something more. The bicycle is such an efficient machine. You eat a bowl of oatmeal and convert it to 30 miles on a Sunday. It’s a great way to meet people or even go on a date, but what I love most about my bicycle is that it is my escape from it all.