I am not in Adams Morgan much. Usually, there are one of two scenarios, the most likely being that I choose to walk through Adams Morgan on my home from work as an alternate to my usual path, and the second being that I go to Adams Morgan to meet up with people and drink some beer. In fact, that’s why I was in Adams Morgan Saturday night, to celebrate a birthday.

You know what makes for a great morning walk in DC? A rain shower. It cools everything down, and there’s not much that doesn’t look better wet: colors just seem to pop as water beads.

Personally, I was just happy the rain stopped: I like walking to the Bookstore as much as possible, and thunderstorms and extreme heat (and beer) have been making that somewhat difficult lately.

I opted to vary my route into work yesterday: usually, I walk straight down Connecticut, and then detour to the store. Yesterday, I made a hard left onto Calvert, and cut down Biltmore onto 18th.

I’ve got to say: Adams Morgan is ugly on a Sunday morning.

And, let me clarify, because honestly? It totally shouldn’t be that way. Adams Morgan — at least, the 18th Street strip that I’m familiar with — has gorgeous architecture*, and a lot of the little breakfast cafes have festive decorations and nicely arranged patio furniture. There weren’t many people out, and not much traffic, either. Really, Adams Morgan has this sort of artist-colony vibe … which gets lost when it’s crossed with the whole frat-boy thing.

And that’s unfair, too, because it’s not just frat-boys drinking there, either, it’s just the best way I can think to describe, say, the upper level of Bourbon Saturday night, packed so tightly it was nearly impossible to go anywhere without forcing your way through and feeling the onrush of claustrophobia. I got into Adams Morgan around 9:30 the previous night, stayed until midnight, then made my way home as best as I could (I may have been weaving a bit).

But the trash — oh, the trash seems to coat Adams Morgan, except whereas rain prettifies stuff, the trash uglyfies it.

And there was a lot of it. Paper plates, and plastic cups, and napkins coated the sidewalk and a good part of the street. I passed a guy in a reflective vest who was using a rake (a rake!) to collect the detritus of the drunks into a garbage can, and that man is probably Adams Morgan’s unsung hero.

Sadly, sometime over the weekend I developed a blister on my right foot, and it didn’t take long once at work to realize a.) how much it hurt and b.) how much I would be taking the Metro home. Because I’d been looking forward to walking home through Adams Morgan once we closed. Fortunately, we close early enough on Sundays that there is still several hours of daylight, and Adams Morgan on an early Sunday evening is beautiful: there is no overwhelming mass of people to fight through, the noise level is loud but not obnoxious, and best of all? No gaggle of drunks. Really, it just feels like the hip urban neighborhood it’s seeming to have an identity crisis over being.

*If you ever stop to notice the building at the southeast corner of 18th & Columbia, the one with the McDonalds? It’s a beautiful gorgeous building with turrets and a rambling roofline.