The Morning Commute

Things are nice at the start of my morning commute. It doesn't last long, though.     

Practically every weekday morning, and most weekend mornings for that matter, I step out the door between 5:30 and 6:00 am, climb on the bike, hit the start button on the computer, and ride off to meet a group or start a solo training ride. On weekdays those rides range from easy 20-mile recovery rides to brisk 40-mile group rides, and generally I'm back home a bit before 8 am. It's not always easy. It's also not my last bike ride for the day. After a shower and breakfast and a sometimes long session checking email, I roll the old commuter out the door for the ride to work. By then, I'm wearing slacks and a button-down collar shirt and leather shoes, and there's a rather heavy messenger bag with rain gear and papers and sometimes lunch over my shoulder. This time of year it's also considerably warmer than it was at 6 am. So this morning I thought I'd put the camera in my pocket and take a few photos along the way.

Since my office moved back downtown, my commute has gone from a tranquil two-mile ride on uptown residential side streets to a considerably less tranquil 4-5 mile ride on bike paths and bike lanes on much more busy streets. The first mile or so is nice and shady as I'm still in the residential areas near home, but then I suddenly emerge from the cool oak canopy of Vendome Place into the stark unfiltered blazing sun of Jeff. Davis Parkway.

After negotiating a couple of never-synchronized stop lights at Earhart and crossing the Palmetto Canal, I cross two lanes of traffic to get onto the Jeff. Davis bike path.

The Jeff Davis bike path is kind of a poster child for how not to build a bike path, but it offers one of the only reasonably safe ways for a slow-moving bike to get from one side of I-10 to the other via a separate path in the middle of the overpass. I could, and sometimes do, take the Broad St. overpass, which shortens my commute a bit, but despite the 35 mph speed limit, most cars are going about 50 at the top where traffic from Earhart merges into the right lane, and then traffic in that lane exits toward Poydras, both sketchy situations for bikes to negotiate, not to mention the cluster f that awaits at the bottom where traffic is always tied up and buses are pulling over to the curb.

It's always a bit of a chore to climb the Jeff Davis overpass on my commuter since it's a single-speed and rather dramatically over-geared,  having been built up from whatever discarded parts were available at the time. Coming down the overpass would be quite nice were it not for the water and mud quagmire that is pretty much always there. Most days I fly through the standing water with my feet raised as high as possible in order to keep the spray that escapes the fenders from messing up my pants and shoes.

Jeff Davis Water Hazard

Turning onto Tulane Avenue, with the sun directly in my face, I pick up the new bike lane that is the only reason I would ever consider riding down that road. I used to take Banks Street, a couple of blocks further down Jeff Davis, but the new VA hospital and University medical center confiscated most of that beyond Broad, so it's no longer a reasonable option. The Tulane Avenue bike lane is already pretty much of a mess. It's always covered with broken glass and small rocks and other debris. It's also often blocked with cars and trucks and buses that shouldn't be there, especially in front of the criminal court building at Broad Street where there's usually a car or two turning right.

Tulane Avenue bike lane, blocked as usual in front of the courthouse

Flooded car still there

Just past Broad there's a BMW that was obviously a victim of the flooding from nearly two weeks ago that is almost completely blocking the bike lane. How it hasn't been towed away is a mystery to me, but I called it in today because apparently nobody else gives a damn.  On other side of Tulane Avenue the bike lane is even worse, and I hate coming home that way. Portions of it are always blocked off for ongoing construction at the old Dixie Brewery that was also confiscated by the medical center or VA or whatever.  Plus, whatever isn't blocked off is covered with big rocks and stuff from the construction.

When I finally turn off of Tulane Avenue, I get a couple of blocks of welcome shade between the LSU Medical Center buildings where I can feel the cool air-conditioned air filtering out from the doors and hvac systems.

A left turn puts me in the sun again to ride under I-10, and then a couple of blocks to the building's parking garage that, thankfully, has a nice bike rack. I lock up there, pull off my hat and glasses, and wipe the sweat from my face and hair, walk into the building, roll down my sleeves, put on my ID tag, and attempt to look at least somewhat presentable before I get to the elevator. Commuting by bike in New Orleans in the summer is a challenge if you have to go anywhere near the CBD. The traffic is bad enough, but you also have to deal with a lot of stop lights and sketchy intersections, blazing hot concrete and asphalt, or, in the winter, cold wind gusts, not to mention the ever-present threat of rain, especially in the afternoons. Despite all of that, it still takes less time to ride my bike to work than it would to drive the car, park five blocks away, and walk to my building.