A Painterly Ride

I am going to write something that might cause envy or resentment in some, especially those of you who are reading behind sleet-streaked windows.

Yes, today's weather was once again glorious.  Actually, it was a bit warmer than the past few days:  During the return part of my ride, the temperature rose to 82F (28C), according to the sign on the Buddy Taylor Middle School.  And the sun shone through puffy cumulus clouds that drifted across the sky.

So I rode up to Bings Landing, the site of the Mala Compra ("bad bargain" or "bad buy") plantation, and back down Route A1A, including one of my favorite stretches.

I wish my photos could do justice to the light that flickered with the dance of the waves and reeds.  At the observation stand from which I took those pictures, I chatted with a retired couple from North Carolina who commented on the light, and the view.  "Now you know why it's called Painters Hill," I explained.

As the saying goes, a lovely time was had by all--especially the ones who came dressed for the occasion:

With their fashion sense, how could I not share my nuts, seeds and granola bars with them?  And, even in such finery, they were not too haughty to refuse!

I was not surprised to see people walking through the sand or fishing. A few even tried to ride the waves, such as they were.  But I didn't see anyone swimming.  Yesterday, I was tempted to dip myself in the water, but after taking off my sneakers and socks, and letting a few waves lap up to my calves, I realized that the water was a bit on the cool side.

Normally, on such a day, people would line the pier at Flagler Beach, whether to fish, watch birds (or wait in the hope of sighting a dolphin, whale or shark) or simply pass enjoy the view and pass the time.  But I noticed that the pier was empty, as it was yesterday and the other day.  

I also couldn't help but to think that the pier looked smaller than it was last year.  Sure enough, it is:  Hurricane Matthew washed away part of it and, according to the gate keeper, it might be closed for another year because the insurance company doesn't want people there until repairs are made and the pier passes inspection.

Still, it was a wonderful day and ride. With the kind of light I had, how could anything have been otherwise?

After Speed And Flight: A Free Lunch (Or Dinner)?

I don't remember the last time I've had such luck with weather!

Once again, the day began sunny, with a temperature of 60F (15C) on my parents' porch, and quickly climbed over 70F (21C).  By late afternoon, after thick cumulus clouds passed over, it was 77F (25C).  Although the clouds muted the sun and had dark undersides, there was never any real threat of rain.  Such clouds are not unusual on warm days in coastal areas.

Yes, I rode along the ocean again--along Route A1A, to be exact.  Today I would follow it from the Flagler Beach Pier, along dunes and beaches of hard-packed sand to the beach that bills itself as the World's Most Famous.

Although I have been there a number of times before, I am always a little surprised at what I find in Daytona Beach.  It's not like any other beach town or resort--at least, not like any other I've ever seen.  Driving is actually permitted on some parts of the beach, as it is in other nearby beach communities like Ormond Beach.  But that beach--which is often called "the birthplace of speed", where several land speed records were set--today has a speed limit of 10MPH.

  And, it also has an important place in early aviation history, where several speed and altitude records were set.  Not surprisingly, the nation's premiere aviation college, Embry-Riddle, is located nearby.

It has its share of beach-town cliches, including the taffy stands and tacky souvenir shops.  But it also manages to combine, in a few blocks near Main Street, everyone's idea of Haight-Ashbury in 1967, Woodstock in 1969, the East Village of those years and a current NASCAR rally all in one.  Oh, and there are religious folks and some genderqueers that would make most drag queens seem like suburban housewives.

And there are residents who are, or seem, completely oblivious to--or just don't care--about it all:  

They probably follow this bit of advice:

and don't even pay for it!  Of course, they might not get the best seats in the house.  But, hey, if you were eating stuff that people pay real money for, and it didn't cost you anything, you wouldn't complain, right?

Then again, there are some folks who, one hopes, won't follow that advice:

Actually, I'd worry about them eating Joe himself--except, of course, that alligators don't go into the ocean.  (Then again, there is the occasional shark!)  But I love the warning, "When fed, the alligator loses its fear of humans and becomes accustomed to handouts."  Hmm...Is there a political philosophy expressed in that?

Interesting that it should be posted at the entrance to the Lehigh Greenway Rail Trail,near the end of my ride.  Is there some kind of cosmology here:  Humans spend their Hamiltons and Jacksons (soon to be Tubmans) on stuff sea birds eat, and said humans can become an alligator's free meal by feeding them what those birds eat?

How does it all end?

I tried to find out whether that was Flagler Beach's version of Stonehenge.  But nobody seemed to know what it was.  I did see a sign nearby that exclaimed "No seawall!"  

For me, it's hard not to agree.  Then again, I just visit once or twice a year.  I don't know how I'd feel if I lived there and my house was inundated by a storm.

Thankfully, I don't have to answer that question.  I didn't have to do anything; I just rode.  

And what a lovely ride I had.  At the end of it, I didn't eat at Joe's:  I ate at Mom's.  And I didn't have to pay for it.

Another Day: Complaining About The Weather

I heard everyone complaining--again--about the cold.  

Today, though, it was in a different place.  No, I wasn't in Montreal.  Les Quebecois would probably laugh at anyone who complained about the weather I experienced today.  So, for that matter, would any French person who doesn't live in the Alps, Pyrenees or Vosges.  For that matter, anyone who would think of today's weather was "cold" lives well south of here.

So where am I?  Here's one clue:

Water covers 70 percent of the Earth's surface. (It's one of the few things I still remember from my eighth-grade Earth Science class.)  So we've eliminated 30 percent of all possible sites.  It's a start, I guess.

OK, here's another clue:

Pink chairs, eh?  I'm not sure of how much they narrow down the possible choices. There are, however, some places where one simply never would find them.

Colors are often useful clues:

 

This looks like the Southwestern US--or, at least, someone's imaginings of it.  Whether or not it's sagebrush verite, it's incongruent with most seaside locales in the United States or Canada.

Just down the road, we can see similar colors in this building:

 
Believe it or not, public toilets are inside that building.  It's in a state park.

Now, if you need more clues, take a look at these, just a couple of miles apart on a road I cycled today:

The road is Route A1A, specifically the segment that connects Painter's Hill, Beverly Beach and Flagler Beach before continuing to Daytona Beach.

I am indeed in Florida.

A rather brisk wind blew in from the north, which held the temperature to around 15C (60F) and made it seem even cooler.  Still, it's nearly tropical in comparison with today's conditions in New York, where it was -13C (8F) early this morning.  That may not seem very cold to some of you, but last week the Big Apple recorded its first subfreezing temperature since late last March.

Even though the weather is milder than it is in New York, it's not the reason I'm here.  I am visiting my parents--and, of course, I plan to ride some more!


 
 

Happy Easter From The Florida "Bunny"

So...Yesterday I was feeling good about doing my first 100K ride of the year and, in the process, getting more sunshine in one day than I'd seen in the previous three months.

Today I rode about half as much.  I probably would have had a shorter ride in any event because I started later and had to get back earlier than I did yesterday.  But today I made a point of not venturing very far because I was riding in and out of showers that threatened to turn into one of those Florida downpours that bears more resemblance to Niagara Falls than to most other storms you've seen.  At least, that's what the weather forecasters promised us.

And we did get one, about an hour after I got back--and just minutes after seeing someone who probably weathered it all quite well:

Can you imagine if we had necks like that?  It would definitely put chiropractors out of business!
 

Actually, he's the Florida Easter Bunny. a.k.a. the Great Egret.

Have a great holiday!