I got a call on the morning of Saturday, August 6th, from Nick Cushing, telling me that he was just returning my call. I didn’t call him on purpose and wasn’t aware of it, but when I looked at my phone I could see that it had called him one minute before I got up that morning.
There was a full harvest of big
beautiful clouds on Saturday evening.
When I
headed out for my bike ride, Saturday had less traffic than most Sundays. The
streets do thin a bit in August and everybody else must have been at the
Danforth Street Festival.
I don’t
like the new bike path they’ve drawn along Bloor Street with parking to the
left of the path. Whose stupid idea was that? We’ve just started to train the
drivers to look before opening their doors. It’ll be impossible to teach the
passengers. I envision a lot of cyclists getting doored from the passenger side
along that route.
I avoided
the hell of the Taste of the Danforth by riding up Broadview to Mortimer and
then across to Greenwood. I explored both Sammon and Mortimer from Greenwood to
Linnsmore.
On my way
back I saw two guys on Bloor Street holding hands. The only thing odd about it
was how tense they were. Their arms and legs were stiff and straight and they
looked like they were quick marching as they walked hand in hand, almost like a
Monty Python skit.
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