Night is the best, indeed. Post band practice, usually Monday and Wednesday nights I leave the space at Superior/Chicago/California and cut through the Puerto Rican neighbourhood, watching the wannabe G's on the corner, the lady tending her Supermercado's fruit crates and passing old timers sitting on stoops. I make my way across Western down Division and cross into different territory, pass the superfuturistic hospital (Saint Mary of Nazareth) and now onto hipster Division marked by funky boutiques, coffee shops, sushi joints and brunch places. I people watch keeping the stroke smooth till I hit Damen. I make the turn and run it all the way to THE corner, Damen/North/Milwaukee. I almost always catch the light here and wait. For a few minutes it's people watching heaven, as they pour out of the Double Door, Filter or Red Dog.

Light's a go and I cut down Damen into Bucktown where it's been turning yuppie, shouting at the odd valet parker or the silly pedestrian who has now decided that this is a good time to step out into the bike lane and get their toes run over or an elbow in their face. I zone out though, these things pass like drops. I just concentrate on the ride, down Webster and then into Lincoln Park all the way to home, two blocks of Wrigley Field. If the Cubs just played I'm weaving and cutting through drunk Cubs fans not giving a rats arse and just playing with them, purposely riding by close so they know to look where they're going. I pull up outside my apartment, still watching the Cubs fans walking by. If it's a quiet night I sit on the stoop in the courtyard and take a quick breather - I'm sweating nice and hard, feeling alive, feeling good.