No Joke, Broke Spoke

Just FYI: the roads in Virginia make no sense. The names change randomly. The numbers are not always sequential (or have strange intervals with groupings of numbers an order of magnitude higher than those on either side). The people drive like bats on crack.

But that last one is true of the entire DC area, I suppose.

The Brunette drove over to my work in Rosslyn last night to pick up my bike. She discovered that there are two Fort Myer Drives within a mile of each other! How confusing is that? Sheesh.

And I broke another spoke on the back wheel next to the cassette. Why don't I ever break a spoke in a place I can fix?

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