I may never drive again

As much as I enjoy walking in the city, I also realize that there will come a day when I need to get somewhere in a hurry. There are places that BART doesn’t go, and Muni has its share of problems. So I was excited when my friend Martha offered me her unused bicycle. I’ve been putting off picking it up because it needs a couple small repairs, things I can’t really justify paying for someone to fix but that I’m not so confident I could fix myself. Solution: the Bike Kitchen. How much you want to bet that this is a top pick-up spot for the crunchy granola/Burning Man crowd? Hippies aside, it looks like a great resource and I’ll probably be wheeling Martha’s bike over there in a couple of days. That pachouli oil scent should dissipate quickly in the open air, right?

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