07:10 AM - San Francisco, Califas.
Weather: mid 50°s
Riders: about one every other block. Lycra and bright yellow jackets seems to be quite popular before 8AM. That has never bothered me.
Smells: Delivery truck idling fumes. Cigarette smoke near one of the bus stop. Some bleach. I hear some cumbias coming out of the corner shop with a guy wearing an A's hat and a white apron, he hoses the same thick green connect-four like mats every morning.
Colors: The market fruits don't really look appetizing at all before noon, they are perfectly stacked and don't look perfect - a good sign. Oranges and grapefruit are predominant.
Often there are some watermelons or papayas on display, whatever big round things are seasonal, split in half and ready to take center stage by noon. I pass by the market's sidewalk and I get the usual "Buenos días" from a very nice older man with round cheeks, or two of the unloading guys that remind me of heckle and jeckle. Especially if those two are already taking a smoke break, I get a flirty "tsssssssss hola chica" then the good morning.
Thoughts: I can't really think much before 8AM. My mind works like a tonka-truck forklift. Forward. On one slow speed. Avoid random people pushing shopping carts near Post Street. Pedal on. and sip. And I better not get a flat because I will flip.
Other mechanical issues can come after that first sip of coffee, weather I decide to stop at a local coffee spot or bring along some french press dose from home. And I think I forgot my phone, again.
Mornings. Thank god for sunglasses.