Misty day – started clear, and I sat at my desk watching a warm front blow in off of the North Atlantic, bringing with it drizzle, then mist, then quality Yankee fog. By the end of the day, New London was a glow out the window, and the foghorn at the Coast Guard station had begun to blow.
There’s a fine tradition in the sea services that the extra money in the first paycheck that comes with a promotion gets spent on buying drinks for one’s shipmates. Usually, it’s called a “wetting down”, and it comes from the old Navy days when one used to have gold embroidered stripes around the cuff to mark rank, and used to end with the newly promoted officer in the ocean. Today, the swim is usually avoided out of courtesy to the person buying the drinks, but the trip to the pub is still pretty much a requirement.
Anyway, we had a guy get promoted in our shop, and he was buying at a bar down on the New London waterfront. So, rather than jumping in the car, I pulled one of the spare bikes out of our building’s basement, and strolled down to the shindig.
And the simple act of using the bike as pure transportation, unhurried and unburdened, was great.
Beer was drunk, toasts were given, stories told, and I headed back to the office to pick up the car and head home.