Now You Can Do What Trump Won't In The Badger State

Right now, Wisconsin is in the news for mainly for the violence in Kenosha, and the possibilty of the President inflaming tensions with his scheduled visit. 

I have never been to Wisconsin, so I know nothing about the state, or Kenosha, but what I've seen and heard in the meidia. (It's a Rust Belt city with widening gaps between rich and poor, black and white, etc.)  If I were to visit the Badger State, I imagine that I would want to go to Kenosha because the events there will be an important part of this country's history.  But, I'm sure there is more that I'd want to see.

One thing I'd want to do is cycle from Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River.  Now it's possible to do just that on a cross-state bicycle route just approved by the American Association of State Highway and Transportation Officials. 

Like other long bicycle routes (like the East Coast Greenway), the US Bicycle Route 30 was created by linking existing state and county bike trails, local roads and bike paths and state and county highways.  In the middle of the state, there is a spur--US Bicycle Route 230--for use when the Merrimac Ferry, which crosses the Wisconsin River, is not available.

Creating good bicycle routes is a laborious feat.  Is it any more difficult than getting the Cheeto In Chief to ride on them?  

Another Connecticut Ride, And Why I Did It

Another Beautiful Fall Day today.  If I don't have some really urgent commitment, and I am not out and on a ride, someone should check my pulse!

"Ride me!"

Seriously, it was just one of those days when I couldn't have not ridden, even if I tried.  And I don't know what would have motivated me to try.

Anyway, I did the most quintessentially fall ride I could do without taking a train or plane--or accompanying someone who was driving a few hours out of town.  You guessed it:  I rode to Connecticut again.  On Arielle, my Mercian Audax, of course.



This time, though, I changed my route a bit.  I've found more segments of the East Coast Greenway I hadn't ridden previously:  Today I took it all the way from the Bronx to Rye, which is near the Connecticut line.

Most of the route follows secondary roads that are commercial strips or main streets of residential neighborhoods in several Westchester County towns.  Some parts of it are two-lane streets with cars pulling in and out. The drivers, thankfully, seemed cognizant of cyclists and gave me as much of a berth as they could.  I also noticed that they were very careful before opening their doors and didn't honk or yell at me when I was just ahead of them and they were trying to pull into a parking spot.  Maybe they were in a good mood:  After all, it was Saturday and most of them were shopping or getting waffles or ice cream in the cute little stores.

And, where I couldn't find any more ECG signs--near the Rye train station--I followed a hunch and took a left on Purchase Street, which I rode for about a kilometer to a fork, where I decided to hook right onto Ridge Road.  Not surprisingly, I had to climb a couple of hills, though they weren't terribly steep or long.  And it brought me to Port Chester, where I know the side streets well enough that I could follow them over the state line.

So,on today's ride, I managed to avoid US 1--and the entrance and exit ramps for I-95 and other highways--altogether.  That alone was enough to make me happy.

Even better was the opportunity to see the changes in foliage.  In just over a week, I saw more reds and yellows in the trees and bushes.  

And, interestingly, some flowers have come into bloom.

Some years, there is a week or so when the Fall seems like a second Spring. The colors are, of course, different, but no less vivid.

To think that I was offered such treats during a ride when I felt really, really good!  

Today I also realized another reason why I've done my Connecticut Ride so often.  It's like one of those meals that offers a nice combination of tastes, textures and even colors.  This ride takes me from my block of brick houses, across the park that is Randall's Island, through the industrial areas and shabby but lively tenement-lined streets of the South Bronx, along tree-lined streets in Westchester County and around the vast estates and horse farms of Connecticut.  And back again.  Pretty good for a day ride, wouldn't you say? 

A Compliment From Someone Who Would Know: George, WIth A Competition GS

Three days, three rides, three bikes.

Arielle

Yes, after riding Vera (my green Mercian mixte) the other day and Tosca (my Mercian fixed gear) yesterday, today I pealled Arielle, my Mercian Audax.

And today I rode, again, to Greenwich CT.  One of the reasons I've been doing that ride is that I'm finding more and more of the East Coast Greenway in the process.  Also, the ride offers different kinds of vistas, terrain and road (and trail) surfaces--actually, quite a bit of variety for the area in which I take the ride and its distance.

Also, the ride calms my inner cynic.  You see, when weather forecasters say the winds are "light and variable", my IC says, "You guys just don't know.  Admit it!"  But, on the ride, the winds (or breezes) can vary because it ranges from urban streetscapes to marshland, low hills and the shores of a large bay and three different rivers.

Plus, today I realized one of the reasons why I ride to Greenwich specifically.  The parks and old houses have their charm, certainly.  But going to the shopping area--lined with designer boutiques and a "thrift" store where I once found a "pre-owned" pair of lavender made-in-France Chanel ballet flats for the modest (ha, ha) sum of $300 (Alas, they wer the wrong size!) also helps me to put my passions and obsessions into a different kind of perspective.  

That's the lesson I learned today from a fellow who, as I was about to mount Arielle for the ride back, remarked on what a "beautiful" bike she is.  (I used the quotations because he used that word.)  "The attention to detail is amazing", he exclaimed.  He liked everything from the paint job, the pinstriping on the lugs (especially the strokes in the "windows" of the lugs) and the Brooks Pro seat, bar tape and the RuthWorks bags.  Plus, he liked the fact that all of the equipment is first-rate--including the Dura Ace derailleurs (the first parts he noticed) and Mavic rims.

Now, I don't mean to boast when I say I get a lot of compliments about Arielle. (In fact, I got another--from a woman pushing a stroller-- on the way home when I stopped for a traffic light in the Bronx, near Parkchester.)  But the fact that this man--George--went into such detail intrigued me.  Which meant, of course, he had a nice bike--whether or vintage or new--with a lugged steel frame.  He pulled up some images of it for me.  If he ever sends them to me, I'll post them.  But for now, I'll post one that's on Old Ten Speed Gallery:

George's 1978 Raleigh Competition GS

George's Raleigh Competition GS is from 1978, the first year it came equipped with Campagnolo Gran Sport parts (and Weinmann Carrera brakes).  Through most of the '70's, the bike came with Huret Jubilee derailleurs and other high-quality French parts.  Now, as you well know, I like the Jubilee and the TA three-arm crankset that was standard equipment for a few years.  But some of the Campy parts--such as the hubs--were a clear improvement.

George says the bike was sitting in the back of a now-defunct shop on Gun Hill Road in the early '80's, when he bought it.  At some point, he changed the three-pin Campy GS crankset for a five-pin Chorus model "because I thought I wanted a 53 T chainring".  Later, he swapped out the dropped bars and stem for a Nitto stem with a longer quill and "riser" bars--which meant, of course, changing the brake levers. He also swapped the Camapagnolo GS quill pedals for MKS touring pedals.   "But I've saved all of the original parts," he reassured me.

Even with all of the changes, I think it's still a very nice-looking bike.  I told him as much.  Part of the reason is that silver finish, which Raleigh offered for the first time in 1978.  That year, the bike was also available in black, as it was through most of the '70's. I think that even after silver became available, more black bikes sold--at least, I've seen more black than silver bikes from the late '70's and early '80's, when the bikes came with Campy GS equipment.  I like the black, but I prefer the silver, which I think is more elegant.

I don't know whether it's my imagination, but the workmanship on those frames--constructed of Reynolds 531 double-butted tubing--seemed to improve when Raleigh switched to Campy GS.  At least, the lugwork and graphics look cleaner.  If I'm not mistaken,  Competition GS bikes from that period were among the last to be made in Raleigh's Carlton facility, where the top-line models (such as the Professional and International) were built by hand.  Carlton bikes have always been more esteemed than the rest of Raleigh's producton, justifiably so, in my opinion.

"Some people think we're crazy to spend as much time and money as we do on our bikes," George mused.  "But look at that car over there"--he pointed to a custom Bentley.  "That's about $800,000 right there.  And for what?  At least we know we're spending on something that will get us somewhere faster, or in more comfort or style, than a cheap bike will."

He had a point.  There were, probably, other cars on that street that cost more than I've made in my entire life.  And I'm sure that some of those people who were sauntering from store to store--and Starbuck's--probably spend money on things, and in ways, I simply can't imagine.

So, George taught me this:  That no matter how much we spend on our bikes, it doesn't come anywhere near what others pay for less practical, less fun--and, to my eyes, less beautiful--things.  That makes me feel better. But it's probably a good thing I didn't come to such a realization when I was younger.

A Developing Picture: The East Coast Greenway

A decade ago, you could say that the photos you took during your vacation were "being developed", and everybody would know what you ment.

I thought about that one day when a student reported seeing a "One Hour Photo" sign and asked me to explain it.  Until then, it hadn't occured to me that a generation of young people is accustomed to instantly sending or uploading images from cameras and "smart phones" to computers--or other smart phones.  Those pictures do not have to be "processed", at least not by human hands.

When I was in high school, I learned how to develop and print photos in a darkroom.  For those of you who have never experienced the joys of such work, I will describe it, briefly.

A darkroom can be, really, just about any space that's big enoug for your equipment, has access to running water and, as the name indicates, can be sealed against light.  Even the slightest leakage of light--except for special blue light in the last stages of printing--can ruin the film on which the photos were shot or the photographic paper on which they were to be printed. So, all of the memories and imaginings you stored on rolls of film could be obliterated by the flick of a switch or the opening of a door.

(Old joke:  Dick and Jane  are in the darkroom.  Let's see what develops.)

First, the film immersing it in a tank of chemicals that converts or releases the substances in the film that store pieces (pixels, if you will) of the image.  The image emerges, if you will, but you can't see it because the film is in a tank and you are working in the dark.  But, later, when you print the film, you can see lines and shapes forming on the blank paper when it's immersed in another chemical bath after the image is projected onto the paper, which is photosensitive.  As the print is washing, you can turn on a "safelight" and see it emerge.  Lines appear and merge with each other, forming shapes of hair, noses, leaves, petals, wheels or whatever you photographed.

Yesterday, when I rode to Connecticut (again!), I felt as if I were watching a picture emerge from a blank slate, or paper, if you will.  Perhaps it's funny that I should use such a metaphor for a ride in which I didn't take any photos.  I'll explain.

Just over a year ago, on another Connecticut ride, I saw signs for something I'd never, up to that moment, heard of:  the East Coast Greenway.  When completed, it will allow non-motorized travel from Calais, Maine (at the border with New Brunswick, Canada) to Key West, Florida. It will include paths and trails through wooded areas and parkland (like the stretch through Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx), designated bike lanes that parallel main roads and quiet residential streets. . The first ECG symbols I saw stood at the end of the PBP trail, at the city line, and along residential Mount Tom Road in Pelham Manor.

On yesterday's ride, I saw some new ECG signs--or, at least, ones I hadn't noticed before.  I spotted them on my way back, just after I crossed the line back into New York State.  They led me along a series of narrow but lightly-trafficked streets that wound through a series of old churches and stone houses in Port Chester and Rye on the way to Playland.

I welcomed the "detour", if you will, as it was pleasant and relaxing--and took me away from Boston Post Road, one of the area's main streets, for a few miles.  Then, a couple of towns south, I picked up another (shorter) series of ECG signs in Mamaroneck, near the harbor and found myself pedaling down a series of suburban streets lined with houses and small sores down to New Rochelle.

And, after navigating the intersection of the New Rochelle DIner and the Home Depot, I picked up the first stretch of ECG I rode last year, from Mount Tom Road all the way (about ten kilometers) to the Hutchinson River Parkway Bridge.  From there, I zigged, zagged and wound through Bronx streets to the Randall's Island Connector.

It's not yet possible to ride a single unified greenway from the city to Connecticut, let alone to Maine or Florida.  But it's fun, in its own way, to see segments of the Greenway emerging like the lines on a developing photograph.  Perhaps one day soon, those lines will connect,  and the picture--the Greenway--will be complete.