I encountered five distinct species of cyclist on the way home today:

A guy riding a Strida.

A dork in butt-crack jeans and Wayfarers who gave me The Look after passing me while I was pootling up the least of my daily hills and thinking deep thoughts.

A strong rider on a Tikit towing a hardshell suitcase on one of those little trailers. I speeded up to watch the trailer, since I've got everything but. It looked solid! No bounce that I could see at all. Then I slowed down. He was fast with that thing!

A good samaritan on a road bike who asked if I was all right while I was stopped and playing with facebook on my new iPhone.

And the usual people who aren't hipsters, just rugged individualists who coincidentally dress and groom the same and ride single-speeds.

Oh, and some 43-year-old wiseass on a tricked-out folder who thinks he's clever.