Morning Commute

I kick started the 1950 Schwinn and hit the trail . . . down the brick street, over Arlen Ness Bridge.

The river was like glass (slight fog over the water downstream).  The recent high water has washed all the goose shit off the trail !  The geese are still here, so more shit coming soon . . .

Downstream fog is lifting . . .

Over the stone bridge and around my exercise loop . . . then past Frank Lloyd Wright's house.

The river is back to normal levels, with good flow.

The kayaks will be out this weekend . . .

McQuillen Place construction seems slow, but they say they're on schedule.  A worker was on the boom early this morning . . . time for a cafe' . . . .

I sit with the bankers and financial wizards of our fine city.  I get the el cheapo $1.38 coffee-of-the-day (black, no room for cream) then I sneak in some half & half anyway . . . and talk politics, city history, and what I did last night when they were probably all in bed by 9:30 . . . . I don't buy any coffee that's from Africa, because I heard they exploit children really bad over there . . . all over coffee beans.  Fuck those dudes.