One of the few benefits of living amongst the drug-addled vagabonds of the Old Fourth Ward neighborhood of Atlanta is proximity to work. As the crow flies, my house is just over 3.5 miles from the office. I have experimented with a variety of commuting options - riding a bicycle, driving a car, taking MARTA, and now motorcycling.
I found bicycling in Atlanta rush hour to be a harrowing experience. To maintain any semblance of safety on a bicycle requires fearless aggression - from commandeering an entire lane to pumping your legs furiously to allay the rage of car followers itching for a chance to pass. Over the course of 3 months commuting by bicycle I was cursed at, spit at, ashed on (intentionally), and nearly hit several times (once successfully).
I picked up a new motorcycle a few months back after trading in one that was too big and powerful for mundane activities like inner-city commuting and general urban putzing. The bike I have now is a Ducati Monster 695. It is deliciously Italian, which means the joy you get from its quirky engine and pretty lines is mitigated to an extent by rather costly service requirements.
Motorcycle commuting is an adventure. From jarring potholes (more easily avoided on a much slower vehicle like a bicycle) to cars that seem startlingly oblivious to other kinds of vehicles, commuting by motorcycle is fraught with peril. I've mounted a cheap video camera to the top of the front right turn signal in the hopes of capturing some of the fun.
Today's commute to work (at 10x speed):
Yesterday's commute home (at 5x speed):
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