The World Won't End--Yet. I Just Hope This Journey Doesn't.

The tides rolled in, higher and higher on the rocks--closer and closer to me and Arielle, who took me to Point Lookout on one of the loveliest afternoons we've had this year.  

She was up for it, wind and all.  We rode into the wind all the way out, literally.  It blew from just the right spot on the compass--somewhere between East-Southeast, South-Southeast and East-East South, I think.  Whatever it was, it blew us all the way back to my place.

While she was soaking up the sun and wind--and I was getting burned by them, in spite of my third application of sunscreen to my arms, face and the back of my neck--I paid a visit to another old friend:

The Point Lookout Orca is a myth  of my own creation.  Which is to say, of course, that it's a rumor that, to my knowledge, has gone no further than this blog.  I had to assure him, Arielle and myself that whatever the tide was bringing in was no more dangerous--at least, not yet--than anything that might result when two thin-skinned, impulsive guys lead their countries.  One of them has a Twitter account.  The other has, according to scientists, an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM).

I fully expect the guy with the Twitter account to use it to exclaim that he has a bigger, stronger missile.  But, because he needs the support of religious conservatives to undo everything Obama did, he can't let his warhead show.  At least, not too much.

That was not a dirty joke.  At least, I hope it isn't.  If it is, then I've just dirty-bombed.

Anyway, it might seem frivolous to some that I am off riding my bike when we might be in the most serious situation this country has seen since the Cuban Missile Crisis.  But,really, what else is there to do--besides peace, whether it's in one's own life or with others.  And, yes, I've been doing as much of the latter as I can.  The rides I take alone, like this one, enable me to do so as much as the rides I do with others--and the marches and everything else in which I participate.

I Rode From It As Fast As I Could!

Yesterday morning, before I went out to ride, I was listening to the radio while I sipped on green tea and ate some Greek yougurt (from Kesso) with almonds and a banana, which I washed  down with an orange.  

While enjoying my breakfast, I was listening to an interview an NPR host conducted with a fellow in Inverness, Scotland who maintains the official website that records sightings of the Loch Ness Monster.  The interviewer is clearly skeptical, to put it mildly, about the existence of "Nessie" and other mythical creatures like Bigfoot.  

Now, because I'm the sort of person who takes a lot of things--even stuff that's more credible than, say, most of what Trump says in his speeches and tweets--with more than a few grains of salt,you might not expect me to be a believer.  But how can I be anything else?  I know for a fact that the Randall's Island Salamander and Point Lookout Orca exist.  I can't not believe.  After all, I made them up saw them and even photographed them, however crudely.

About the latter:  I didn't see him (I think I decided he's male because he reminds me of a Pac Man!) yesterday even though I rode to Point Lookout.  But could there be something else lurking in the waters by "the Point"?


It looks ready to take over the bay, the ocean and even the land:

A clever creature it is:  It showed up in the same part of all of that photos I took.  I guess it's trying to make me believe that it was dirt or some malfunction in my camera rather than a sea creature.

A tech-savvy monster?  Should we be scared?  Does the Point Lookout Orca stand a chance against it?

Oh, no:  It's following those folks home.  And their little dogs, too!

Fixtures In The Landscape

Have you ever gone someplace--particularly a place very different from the one in which you were born, raised or lived--and felt as if the people there were always there, as if they were part of the land, sea, wind, stones or sky--or as if they were forms of the very light in which you were seeing them?  

I hope that I don't seem to be dehumanizing or merely trivializing him, but this fisherman, when I first looked at him, seemed to be part of the rocks and concrete slabs on the beach:

Perhaps he looked that way because I'd pedaled against the wind all the way from my apartment to Point Lookout before I saw him.  I wasn't tired:  I've been feeling really good on my bikes--especially Arielle, my Mercian Audax, which I rode today--lately.  If anything, I was feeling pretty giddy.  For some reason (or perhaps no reason), I've often felt that way while and after riding.


Somehow I felt that man will be there again the next time I ride to Point Lookout, along with all of those slabs and stones, and the tides, whether they're in or out--and, oh, yes, the Point Lookout Orca.  

I assured Arielle that she didn't have to become part of the rocks, or part of any art installation.  All I wanted was for her to take me back--with the wind at my back, all the way to my apartment.  After you're giddy, you get to exhale.

Riding In Dry Heat To The Sea--And An Old "Friend"

In my youth, one of the things I did when I was trying to figure out--or, perhaps, avoid--whatever it was I was supposed to be doing was to teach English in a language institute near the UN.  

In every lesson, I would give students at least one tip on "how to sound like an American".  One--as I've mentioned in another post--is never to call the largest city in California "Los Angeles".  To us 'Murikuns, it's "L.A."

Another one of my tips was to talk about the weather.  Americans are always talking about it, I'd tell them, and that's one of the easiest ways to talk with an American--and learn everyday English.

In that vein, I'm going to say something about the weather, as I did yesterday.  It was hot today, though not quite as oppressive as the last couple of days.  But there was a huge difference:  very low humidity.  Those of you who live and ride in places like "L.A." or Arizona are probably accustomed to such conditions.  But here in the NYC Metro Area--indeed, on most of the East Coast--heat=humidity, at least most of the time.

It's weird, at least for me, to ride in 90 degree F (32C) weather without sweating. I take that back:  the body sweats, but it doesn't drip.  Rather, the beads of sweat evaporate before you can see or feel them on the surface of your skin.  Meantime, you're sucking down water or your favorite color of Gatorade or whatever your preferred libation is for bike riding.

In some way, I guess it makes sense that I'd ride to the ocean on a day like this. Specifically, I pedaled to Point Lookout:  into the wind to Rockaway Beach, balancing the wind on my right side to the Point and on my left side back to Rockaway and, finally, with the wind at my back from Rockaway Beach.

The tide was in, so the sandbars and many of the rocks I've seen on previous rides were submerged.  However, I did get a glimpse of an old friend:


He's at the center of the photo.  Look closely and you can see--no, not Jaws

but the Point Lookout Orca!

I hadn't seen him in a while. Whatever he (somehow I think he's male) is, he deserves the same respect accorded other mysterious aquatic and amphibious creatures like the Loch Ness Monster.  I think he prefers that to being compared to Pac-Man:

Hmm...Could the inventor of that iconic video game have been working from some Jungian archetype?  Could that person have had the Point Lookout Orca in his or her subconscious without realizing it?

Whatever Point Lookout Orca is, he's never chased me.  I guess I'm not as tasty as the crustaceans and bivalves he can find in those waters.  After all, who ever paid $100 for a plate of me?  Orca, on the other hand, gets to eat what's served in the city's most expensive restaurants--for free.

And I get to have a great ride without breaking a sweat.  It all works out sometimes.

The Point Lookout Orca: Such A Privilege To See It

I've done this ride at least a hundred times before.  Still, every time I do it, I never know what I'll find:

Could this be the Point Lookout Orca?  Or is this proof that Pac-Man evolved from some sea creature that waded onto land--or beached itself?  Hmm...Maybe there's even more to Darwin's theories (or Genesis, for that matter) than we thought!


Some of you might see it as a claw.  That would make sense, given what I saw on the path leading to it:

All of those black dots or specks or smudges you see are crab legs, or fragments of them.  Among them were also some empty mollusk shells.  The birds of Point Lookout don't realize how good they have it:  Meals like these would easily cost $30, or more, in my neighborhood--and even more in Manhattan!


Then again, I wonder whether the people who live there know how good they have it.  I know how good things are for me when I can ride there on an absolutely perfect day

and I have Arielle to take me there.