Last Thursday, I listened to a recent episode of The Vergecast during my morning bike commute. The episode featured Paul Ford talking about his recent experience with Claude Code, and I was genuinely surprised to find some of his comments resonating with me. It helped that Ford wasn’t uncritical about AI (though certainly not as critical as I would have been), but some of it was just that I recognized some of the thrill that he was describing of using tools and resources to learn how to solve a problem. In fact, I found that thrill so contagious that a passing comment he made got me to spend some time once I got to the office converting my Twitter archive into a CSV that I could finally import it into the Day One journaling app that I use.

You know, I was just thinking of Clark Gilbert earlier today (or maybe yesterday morning?). It was while I was standing “the wrong way” in the elevator, something I do—and have perfectly good reason to do—every day I bike into work.

Il y a des jours où c’est bien pénible, le vélotaf, mais aujourd’hui, c’était le premier vélotaf de 2026, et j’en étais bien content.

Même quand il fait -3, ça fait du bien, un vélotaf après une semaine et demie de pause.

Still trying to figure out a replacement bike after my main commuter was declared unsafe by the U.S. government. Juggling price, geometry, maintenance, practicality, and everything else.

Il m’arrive de devoir chercher un nouveau vélo, mais il paraît qu’on oublie que les grands aussi ont envie d’être vélotaffeur. Si je faisais quelques centimètres de moins, tout serait bien plus facile.

Black Friday is one of the worst things to ever happen to our world, but if I had to suddenly consider finding an expensive replacement for the bike I use to regularly commute to work, I guess I’m glad the choice came up this week?

Trop cool !

Ce matin, j’ai été poursuivi par un chien aboyant pour la première fois en sept ans de vélotaf. Vive le vélo électrique ! 😅

When my post-bike commute helmet hair starts looking like Norman Osborn’s weird comics haircut, it might be time for a trim.

Tfw you’re running late and your first meeting is running early, so his first impression of you is of someone bundled up in warm, neon clothes awkwardly carrying an ebike up the stairs because the elevator is out.

On vient d’annoncer que l’ascenseur au travail sera en panne toute la semaine prochaine. Il faudra que je réfléchisse sur les conséquences pour mon vélotaf.

Nothing like a windy day for a “don’t get blown into traffic” bike commute home.

Scientific inquiry report: Hand warmers work well enough that I feel dumb that I haven’t been using them, but they don’t fix the main problem of numb fingers. My current winter gloves usually do the trick, but it’s time to invest in some “lobster claws” for really cold commutes.

In the spirit of scientific inquiry (and getting my colleagues off my case about the color of my fingers when I get to the office), let’s see how much protection these expired-in-2022 hand warmers provide against this morning’s freezing temperatures.

Today’s bike commute getup. One more distant colleague didn’t know who I was until I spoke to her. Other folks who see me more often could recognize me by my helmet alone. 🚲

Glad I already have tenure or else I’d be a lot more worried about what my colleagues think of me holding my numb fingers under running water in the break room, still dressed in four layers of warm and reflective clothing and before I’ve had a chance to fix my helmet hair.

Rather than feel dumb for losing control of my bike taking a turn too fast, I am choosing to focus on the wreck’s superficial similarity to the Akira slide.

After six years and over 6,000 miles¹ of bike commuting without any real incident², I took a corner too fast this morning, hydroplaned, and slid a few feet on the road before picking myself up to get back to the sidewalk and out of the way of the cars whose path I was blocking. It wasn’t a huge wreck: I didn’t hit my head, my bike seems to be fine³, and three scrapes (one bigger than others) and some torn-up clothes are the worst of the damage. I rode back home, cancelled class, cleaned myself up, and am figuring out how to adjust my work day.⁴

Happy to report that I won this morning’s game of precipitation chicken—didn’t even need the rain gear I put on out of caution.

Another fun bike commuting game is precipitation chicken: How much of this rain can I wait out before delaying my ride in makes me late for class?

Time to go combine some favorite things: bike commuting, libraries, and early voting.

Bilan du vélotaf ce matin : un peu mouillé (la pluie est arrivée au bureau juste avant moi), et les chevilles nues sous mon pantalon (je porte toujours des chaussettes courtes, ayant oublié les autres à la maison).

Concerned about the fragile masculinity of the driver whose response to my pulling up in the bike lane is to progressively inch forward into the intersection so that I don’t beat him across when the light turns green. My dude, so long as you don’t run me over, I’m good.

Bike commuting golf: See how few times you have to put your foot to the ground while on your way to work. It’s more a game of chance than skill (lots depends on the red light gods), but I still enjoy playing.