Perfect morning: 52F, calm, and bright blue skies. For the first time in forever, all my bikes were in working order and ready to roll. I chose the Novara, because I spent a few minutes last night putting her back in roadie form by taking off the aerobars and swapping back the straight seat post. Man, that baby is fast and light.

Adventures in trackstanding: I was waiting at a light and had a good trackstand going when I hear the buzzy mumble of a too-loud iPod come up from behind. Twenty-something hipster on an older Cannondale wearing tastefully torn Carhart workpants, Chuck Taylors, no helmet to mess his perfectly tousled bed-head, and the aforementioned iPod. He rolls in front of me and stands as if to trackstand but it's not holding and he goes into a lazy circle in front the line of cars. I usually keep an eye on the pedestrian light to get the timing of the green and realize it's almost ready to turn. Just as Hipstserboy's in the middle of the lane and facing backwards, the light goes green. I take off and as I'm clearing the intersection I hear cacophony of car horns.

Way to go, kid.