Riding Into The Season's Light

Sometimes I ride into sunrises.

Sometimes I pedal into sunsets.

Sometimes the day dawns as it ends.

Sometimes the day ends as a season continues.

And they're all journeys of light.

The other day, after work, Dee-Lilah--my custom Mercian Vincitore Special--took me into such a journey.

From a block away, I felt as I could see the day, the season, coming to us as we approached this tree

and it filled me with its light.

Do I need a better reason to ride?

 

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? 

More Signs (Of The Season, And Other Things)

The weather during the ride I took to Connecticut on Monday was a sign of Fall's impending arrival.  Today, during--you guessed it--another ride to Connecticut, I saw yet another sign the season will soon be upon us:

This trail, part of the East Coast Greenway, connects Pelham Bay Park, City Island and Orchard Beach with Westchester County.  Along the way, it passes by a horse riding academy, golf course and the shores of Long Island Sound before twisting its way through woodland that straddles the line between the upper Bronx and Pelham Manor.

Although the temperature was slightly higher (rising to 25C by mid-ride), it really didn't feel that way, in spite of the bright sunshine.  As I mentioned in my post about Monday's ride, the days are growing shorter, so the ground and buildings aren't absorbing as much heat as they did even two or three weeks ago. But, perhaps more important, the wind was even more brisk:  At times, it reached 40 KPH.  And, yes, I was pedaling into it on my way up.

The wind didn't deter these folks who were enjoying the light and vistas of Mamaroneck Harbor:

Back to the subject of signs:  When you ride, you see the kind I've mentioned as well as the ones posted on buildings.  I hope this isn't a sign of things to come:

All right:  The name of the bowling alley has nothing to do with firearms or survivalists.  Rather, it's located near the intersection of Gun Hill (great name, huh?) and Boston Post Roads in northern Bronx.  What amazes me is that the sign looks so pristine while keeping to the look of the 1950's or early 60's.  I don't believe it's anyone's attempt at self-conscious irony:  There are no hipsters in the neighborhood around it. (Most of the residents are Caribbean immigrants or their children; not long ago it was a blue-collar-to-middle-class Italian-American neighborhood.)  I think life throws enough irony at those people.

Seeing such a sign on an absolutely beautiful and bright day, as Fall knocks at our door, is plenty or irony for me.  I love it!

Moving Forward

Bicycling and bicycles have been among the few constants in my life. All manner of other activities, objects, interests, avocations, relationships and tastes have entered and left my body, my mind, my life.  Also, beliefs and ideas--mostly bad ones.  At least, they usually seem irrational in retrospect.  

But riding a bicycle is one of the few things I've never regretted, never felt ashamed of.  When I was riding more than I am now, there were people who gave me smirks of smug superiority when I couldn't give them a rational reason for the time, energy--and money--I was devoting to this passion.  I get the same sort of reaction these days from people who wonder why I'm not skinnier.  But I don't care, any more than I cared then:  Such people don't remain in my life.  But cycling does.

And, really, bicycles don't change that much.  sure, they're made of different materials and have different configurations from the ones I rode and saw around me in my childhood, in my youth, in my previous life.  There are even genres of bikes that didn't exist when I was starting out:  Most notable among them is the mountain bike.  But the basic idea of a bicycle is always the same:  Using your feet (or hands or some other part of your body) to propel two wheels to propel yourself forward on two wheels.

I mean, really, what else is there in life?

From Midwest Lotus

A Door To A Season

Perhaps it's strange to talk about a "typical March day" in this part of the world, as this month's weather is the least predictable of all.  On any of the 31 days between February and April, we can have (and have had) everything from summer-like heat waves to the most intense blizzards.  

But somehow today seems like it could only be of this month: chilly winds are blowing under clear skies streaked by the faintest wisps of cumulus clouds.

It feels, to me, like the door to a new season.  I can see what's inside even if I can't enter yet.

Somehow this photo seems apt:

From Pinterest

 

Spring?

Ah, yes.  Today's the first day of Spring.  At least, that's what the calendar says.  And, according to Punxsutawney Phil, the season should be well under way by now.

However, riding to work today looked more like this--minus the scenery, of course:

 
At least the snow is on the sides of the street, not in the roadway.  I'm grateful for small things.