Usually I take the bus or train in to the office, but I am not a creature of habit--in fact I take a different route.... Usually I take the bus or train in to the office, but I am not a creature of habit--in fact I take a different route almost every day, regardless of what transit mode I am using. Each bus route, each train station, has a different crowd, often a different language, usually distinctive neighborhoods (though not all neighborhoods in LA, afflicted by a surfeit of '60s stucco, are distinctive!). Sometimes I walk the six miles, but often enough I roll out the Bridgestone and pedal. I miss the company of strangers I get on the MTA, but I enjoy the exercise, and I explore the back streets between home and desk.

A couple of days ago, on a brilliant spring morning brisk with birdsong and desert-scented breezes, I snapped the pants clip around my right cuff and headed off into the day.

I was pleased to see, on both the way in and the way home, other bicyclists of every class and capacity likewise pedaling to work. Some were in heavy work clothes and wobbling down the sidewalks on shabby thriftshop bikes with seats too low and tires half flat--the LA paradigm of laborers paid too little to afford a car--but many others were clearly voluntary riders, dressed in everything from mechanic's coveralls to office casual to, in one case, white shirt and tie, riding in the traffic lane on quality bicycles. Not spandex-clad gearheads (OK, I saw those too--and am one myself sometimes), but folks who choose to travel on their own steam.

It inevitably brought to mind H. G. Wells's famous dictum: "Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race."

That counts double in LA!