The Winds of the Season

 On my way back from a ride to Fort Totten, I stopped on the Malcolm X Promenade and captured (I hope) some of the energy of a Fall day.

The End—Or Just Change?

 

The past few days have been hectic.  It’s “crunch time” at work and I’ve had to attend to a few things that might lead to a change in my life. Whether that will be good or bad, or just change, I don’t know.

I did manage to squeeze in a late-afternoon ride to and from Fort Totten the other day.  I rode Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear, as I often do on short rides. On my way home, I stopped to enjoy the end-of-day light from the Malcolm X Promenade, which rims mFlushing Bay from LaGuardia Airport.

As much as I enjoyed the spectacle, upon looking at a photo I took, I can’t help but to wonder whether it portends what will come from the change, should it come to pass.

Idyll By The Airport

 Ah, the joys of an early morning ride.

You can almost hear the overture from Sprach Zarathustra in the background 

or, perhaps one of those early Infiniti TV ads.

Believe it or not, I chanced upon this scene along the Malcolm X Promenade—about half a kilometer from LaGuardia Airport,

From there, I pedaled out to Fort Totten and back—40 kilometers on Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear.  I’d say it’s a respectable “beat the heat” early morning ride.

A Clue To The Next Post

Just before Christmas, I spotted this bike on the Malcolm X Promenade, site of the World's Fair Marina.  

I've ridden that way a couple of times since, and the bike was still in its spot.

The brand decal seems to be "WTC."  That acronym, for me, denotes World Trade Center.  Perhaps some company wanted to say they were "giants" among bikes.

It looks like an old Schwinn Twinn tandem if it were made by Columbia, Huffy or one of the other department-store brand bike makers.  Tell-tale signs include the welded frame joints that aren't built up--and smooth and round--like the ones on the old Schwinns.  Also, the one-piece crank is a cheaper version of what Schwinn used.

 

What I found interesting, though, was the drum brake on the rear.  Schwinn used them on some of their "muscle" bikes and, I believe, their multi-geared Twinns. (Most people, I think, bought the coaster-brake model.)  I don't think it's an Atom--which Schwinn used--or an Arai or Shimano, supplied on higher-level tandems during the 1970s and 1980s.

Anyway, the location of this bike--on Malcolm X Promenade, which curves along the shore of Flushing Bay just east of LaGuardia Airport--is a clue to what awaits you, dear reader, in my next post! 

Late Afternoon, Early Winter Ride

Christmas weekend included everything one expects, weather-wise, in this part of the world--except snow.  Cold and wind cut through layers of insulation on human bodies as well as buildings.  I wondered whether even fluffy, shaggy dogs dressed in wool sweaters or down vests (yes, doggie down vests are a thing!) were warm, or at least not cold, as they led their humans along concrete sidewalks and asphalt streets that, I imagine, are even colder than their surroundings.

Yesterday afternoon brought a heat wave, at least by comparison:  the temperature broke the freezing mark, if only by a degree.  And the wind died down, if only a little.  Still, conditions were more inviting for a ride than they'd been in days.  

My late-day ride took me to the Malcolm X Promenade, which rims Flushing Bay east of LaGuardia Airport.  For the return leg of my ride, I chose a route through an industrial area surrounding the Steinway piano works.  It was almost eerily quiet for a weekday afternoon:  I guess a lot of people took the week off.  I can't blame them, really:  Not much happens during this week between Christmas and New Year's Day.

What I saw while pedaling south on Steinway Street made me happy I chose that particular route.  The sun set a minute or two later than it did last week: paradoxically, a sign that we are plunging deeper into winter.  The glow that bathed the street, trees, cars and people, however, at least felt like the milder weather forecast for a day or two from now.

Restfulness, I Hope

The other day, a late-afternoon ride along familiar routes turned into more of a journey than I imagined it could be.

Along the Malcolm X Promenade (formerly the Flushing Bay Promenade), workers who didn't have a "break room" were doing the best they could to take a break from work much harder than mine:

They were reclining by the water, in the way people can recline only when they're by the water.  A few miles away, in Fort Totten, I saw upright structures in, and by, the water.

Nearby, in Crocheron Park, Golden Pond allowed me, for a moment, to pretend that I'm Monet.

I hope that the men I saw early in my ride got their well-deserved rest--and, just as important, the calm I felt seeing the sailboats in the bay and blooms in the pond.

If Not The Bike

Another heat wave has this city, and area, in its grip.  That means, as in the previous stretch of serial "scorchers," I'm taking early morning rides.  Also, I needed to get back in time for a lunchtime conference call.

Although my situation precluded a long ride, I was happy to be awake and on the road before the rush hour traffic.  I rode early enough, in fact, that on my way back--which took me along the Malcolm X Promenade--I didn't see very much traffic entering or exiting LaGuardia Airport.  

Also, I rode early enough to avoid an afternoon storm that was forecast, but never arrived.  The seeming imminence of the storm was accented by two skeletal trees on the bay:

It's strange to see them in the middle of summer.  I think they were just planted, along with other vegetation, to shore up a shoreline ravaged by Sandy and other storms.  Or those trees might've been damaged during, and pruned after, one of those storms.

Those trees framed a grimly dreamlike skyline of tall buildings blotted by clouds behind masts of boats belying the seemingly-imminent storm.

That I can find, without even trying, a new view or other sensual experience on a ride I've done dozens, or even hundreds, of times is a reason why I take those rides time and time again.  Some folks--friends--think it has to do with my innate "sensitivity."  I say it's, if not the bike, then cycling.

 

Rest And The Path Ahead

 I wanted to ride this afternoon, but I wasn’t feeling adventurous.  Perhaps it has to do with the year ending:  Starting new journeys seems more appropriate for a new year.

So I rode to the Flushing Bay Promenade, recently renamed the Malcolm X Promenade.  He lived in nearby East Elmhurst, along with other luminaries like Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and Ella Fitzgerald.

The ride is pleasant enough, sort of like comfort food for me and my bikes.  I rode up and down the promenade a few times, in part to get into a physical and mental “groove,” but also because of two men.

Short and squat but broad-shouldered and thick-fingered, they looked like the sort of Central American immigrants who wait at strategic but discreet intersections in residential neighborhoods where contractors, landscapers and other small business people hire people like them as day laborers.  

Such people work and sleep hard, wherever they can. So it’s unusual to see men like them dozing on park benches.  

But were they sleeping ?

Their faces, which probably would have been colored like terra cota or the earth from which they came, instead looked as if they’d been worn to reflect the gray sky and water. One man’s hand drooped in front of him, his fingers frozen in a grip of something no longer there.  

The other man’s head was cocked to his side, as if he stopped himself from resting it on the other man’s shoulders—or a pillow he realized wasn’t there.

A mobile phone propped between them played bouncy conga drum and stringed music.  But it could just as well have emitted “elevator music,” for all of the effect it had on them.

Finally, when I rode by them for the sixth time, I think, the man with the cocked head stirred. 

“¿Estás bien?” I shouted. He nodded.

“¿Necesitas algo?” He moved his head slowly from side to  side.

“¿Estás seguro?” Another nod.

“OK. Feliz año nuevo.” Even if they’re OK, I hope the path ahead is easier and clearer for them in the coming year.

At least the ride back was, for me.