I enjoy bicycling, despite the latent danger in the affair. I especially enjoy the rush of air past my ears as I zoom at 30 mph on my road bike.
One downside to this emission-free form of transportation is Tucson Trash. Why do the streets smell in this town, like Amsterdam in 987 Common Era? The trash bins, you see, become super-heated under the sun on a 104-degree day. The least bit of refuse can turn into an urban effluvium that would make even the most seasoned hog reel. And, there's really nothing that can be done, for who wants to spray out the nastiness of the bins, ancient chunks of unknown origin flying into one's face? Thus the smell persists. I shall pass the stank later today, in my gravel driveway, and imagine that it is not there.
And that is why Tucson Smells Like Trash (but ever so slightly).