never ever

i can't possibly ever get tired of riding the bike around philly at quarter to four in the morning. there is nothing quite like crossing eight lanes of dead-still red lights with no hand and not a feeling at all of the hundred of cars that will clog the streets in just a few hours or the ones that freshly scurried away.
going through the heart of center city the wrong way on the smoothest streets i've ever felt, no i'll never get tired of it. in the humid lukewarm early summer air that fills you and sticks to you no matter how fast you're moving. its a ghost town, nobody is awake makes you think you're the only one around, nothing to think about but whats around on a sunday night. wholly consumed with pedaling and seeing.