Some things
felt right again after I rode to St. Augustine and Daytona Beach from my
parents’ house. The cobwebs fell off, so
to speak, after days without riding and sunlight.
Today was
even better: I did my first long (100K
plus) ride on my home turf, if you will.
And I did it on Tosca, my fixed gear bike, no less. Because she’s so responsive, about the only
thing that hindered me was the wind. But
at least I had it with me on most of my way back after pedaling into it on my
way out.
It was all
but impossible for me not to ride
today. Not that I would have tried not
to: The sky was brighter than it’s been
in a long, long time up this way. Now,
some days this winter were clearer—or, at least, some things could be seen more
clearly, including the sorts of reflections and images that come to some of us
from within.
If you live
in a place where winters are long and full of short days, you might know what I
mean. Some things are never more
striking—or, at least, stark—than they are against an alabaster landscape, bare
branches and an ashen sky. It’s sort of
like a photographic negative of a chiaroscuro painting.
But today
was all light and color. I might be the
“extroverted introvert” that someone called me, but even at my most
introspective, I can stand a dark night (Is there any other kind?) of the soul
for only so long.
Even against
the blue, sunny skies, and among the budding flowers and trees, there are still
signs of the old season.
And there
are signs of other seasons further past:
to be more precise, the one of Superstorm Sandy. Dunes are being fortified along the Rockaway
shore; there’s even been talk about building a sea wall. I wonder if this is the scaffolding for it.
If it is,
it’s certainly wasn’t necessary today.
The tide was out everywhere I rode all the way to Point Lookout.
Also,
although the air temperature reached 27C (80F) in my neighborhood, it was—or at
least felt—about 10C cooler along the shoreline. That’s because the ocean temperature is still
only about 7C (45F). It will warm up
fairly rapidly during the next two months.
But for now, I think there’s more danger of freezing than drowning from
that water.
Tomorrow—or,
perhaps, later tonight—I will see the effects of the sun and wind on my
skin. One good thing about having ridden
in Florida the week before last is that, as a result, I remembered to use
sunscreen today. Often, I forget it on
my first warm-day ride and feel the burning and fatigue the following day, if
not that night.
But all in
all, this ride lifted my spirits. That’s
all I ever wanted, really.
