Hi! I Was In Boston And Now I'm Not!

So there I was on Friday evening, sitting on the sofa, clutching my Amtrak ticket, and preparing to board my train to Boston a mere 13 hours later.  (Yes, I was SO EXCITED to go to Boston I was just going to sit there all night bug-eyed and wired until it was time to leave, like Robs Fords on crack.)  Then, this happened:

Fortunately, nobody was killed, but unfortunately it meant there would be no Amtrak between New York and Boston.  But also fortunately, I OWN A CAR:

Nevertheless, I ran through my choices:

1) Fly To Boston:

For laughs I actually looked into this, and I could have purchased a round-trip on the Delta shuttle for just under $900;

2) Ride My Bike To Boston:

According to Gargle Maps it's exactly 214 miles between my home and Landry's where the event was taking place, and as much as I enjoy bicycle cycling, believe it or not I also have a fucking life;

3) Take A Bus To Boston:

Uh, no freaking way:

4) Drive THE CAR THAT I OWN:

This seemed like the best option.  On the negative side, I'd be putting additional mileage and wear-and-tear on my vintage automobile

(The call me "Chitty Chitty Douche Douche.")

But on the plus side, I'd be able to sound my old-timey horn at any pesky cyclists I might encounter, and perhaps even shake my fist at them for good measure.

So driving it was.  I made good time too, reaching Boston a full 20 minutes earlier than I would have had I traveled by bicycle:

That old Jew-hater Henry Ford really knew what he was doing.

Oh, it should also go without saying that I threw my folding bike into the horseless carriage, and once I got to Boston I unfurled it and took to the streets--which are covered with these:

(Oh, screw you.)

I was very much not wearing a helment, and I had two very good excuses:

1) The only way to look stupider on a folding bike is to wear a helment while riding it;

and

2) I knew nothing bad was going to happen to me that day.

This isn't to say I never wear a helment; I do, but only when it looks right with my outfit.  For example, if I put on the stretchy Fred gear, I always top it off with a helment.  However, if I'm wearing normal pants, I skip the helment.

That's my entire criteria.

I'm sure someone somewhere is shocked and appalled that I'm so reckless and irresponsible.  But guess what?  Riding a bike without a foam hat on my head is by far the wildest thing I ever do in my life.  (The second-wildest thing is not bothering to button my pants again after I go to the bathroom.)  Go read Keith Richard's autobiography, then think about some bike blogger riding a folding bike without wearing a helment, and then tell me if you still think it's a big deal.

You know what's actually crazy?  Being this fat and smoking crack is crazy:

(Robs Fords having his half-hourly heart attack.)

So just relax already.

Anyway, I defied death and made it Landry's, bare head and all.  First, I met some lovely people who wanted to share with me the latest in artisanal pant cuff protection:

(Disembodied prehensile foot.)

See how that works?

I look forward to trying it as soon as I can be bothered to put on shoes.  (Or, for that matter, pants.)

 Anyway, by that time a goodly-sized group was ready to tour the local bicycle infrastructure:

We were led by Urban Adventours, distinguished by their Day Glo foam bike hats and wheelbrows:

The weather was delightful, the warm breeze tickled my thinning, helmentless hair, and I learned a lot about Boston.  For example, here we are in the park known as the "Emerald Necklace," designed by celebrated landscaper Frederick Law Olmsted:

If you ever find yourself cycling in Boston, be sure not to confuse the "Emerald Necklace" with the nearby "Pearl Necklace," designed by celebrated manscaper Mario Cipollini:

(Cipollini displays his other pearly whites.)

Unless you actually do want to visit the Pearl Necklace, in which case all I'll tell you is that you'll find it under an overpass and it will take 4-6 minutes to complete.

Here's a picture of someone taking a picture of me taking a picture of someone taking a picture of me taking a picture of someone, etc.:

And here's what happened afterwards:


Then I blacked out, and I woke up six minutes later wearing a pearl necklace.

By the way, it's a good thing Dave was wearing his helment:

A helment offers you full protection against the impact of deeply profound cosmic revelations and intense visual metaphors.

Speaking of helments, here are two more reasons I didn't need a hement.  Firstly, we had this guy, who called out every single "obstacle," down to the sub-atomic level:

("Quark up!!!")

Also, we had a clergywoman on hand:

So in the event I did manage to sustain a fatal blow to the head, I knew that at least someone would be on hand to administer last rites.

I should at this point thank Esteemed Commenter Daddo One (aka "Andrew Steinhouse") for putting everything together, and here's pretty much the only picture I managed to take of him, shortly before we watched a gentleman on a crabon road bike fall over on the bike path because he couldn't get out of his clipless pedals:

Not only is ECDO a quick wit and a snappy dresser, but he also had a fuckload of pizza and beer waiting for us when we got back to the shop:

Unfortunately for the attendees, there's no such thing as free pizza and beer, so next came the relentless self-promotion as ECDO interviewed me about my book before a capacity crowd:

And when I say "capacity" I mean they were wishing at full capacity that they were someplace else:

In all, it was a lovely visit, and as I understand it there was even leftover pizza for a light pre-Fred ride breakfast the next morning:

(Mark from Landry's.)

I however, skipped out on the Fred ride, and by that time I was in Chitty Chitty Douche Douche, doing about 17mph on the Mass Pike, wearing a coonskin cap, and cranking the heavy shit:



That was some badass whistling--or as it's called now, "artisanal exhaling."

Thanks again to Esteemed Commenter Daddo One and Landry's Bicycles for the hospitality.