DC Cycling Has Been Invaded...

...by bike riding Fred's like this dude and to me they are known as the Klingons. You guys know who you are. Yes you, the dude who wears his Primal Fear kit and the clip on aero bars on your insanely expensive Trek that you have no business owning. The same guy who hits Rock Creek Park like it's stage three of Le Tour and sucks my wheel while I'm heading out of the park like I'm on Cipo's lead-out train of old.


Seriously dude, I don't know you. I didn't set out to ride with you. I don't want to ride with you. You are literally just the guy I passed right before a stop light and you should disappear just as quickly. What's sad and worse is that honestly I fear that the klingon gets some kind of Saturday-morning-world-championship joy out of riding my wheel.

If your goal is ride with me to prove your fredhood, why don't you try riding the next 60 miles with me. You know the one's I do after I leave you in the park. Don't worry, I know you're probably confused by a lot of this so I went online and ordered a book on how to speak klingon and I am listening to audio tapes so in the future I can say get dropped in your native language.