In Its Wake, Another

I guess we're making up for last winter. 

Then, the weather belied a pandemic that was gathering steam:  It hardly snowed at all, and we didn't have an extended cold spell.  The reports I read confirmed what I thought:  The season was one of the warmest winters on record.

One week ago, a storm dumped about 43 cm (17 inches) of snow.  Temperatures remained below freezing until Friday, so much of the snow remained.  In fact, when I rode through Red Hook on Saturday, Sanitation Department trucks were still plowing it.  

I guess they had no place else to dump it.  So, a stretch of Clinton Street was blocked off and the NYSD created a temporary "ridge."

Well, they finished it--and I got a ride in--just in time.  Snow fell again yesterday:  about half as much as the first storm left, but enough to complicate things.

But when the storm left late yesterday, it left a lovely glow in its wake

about two blocks from my apartment.  

 

Not Fooled, But Snowed Under, Again

Just when I thought we were going to have clear roads and the last of the sooty snow residue was gone, we got a couple more inches.  It was pretty wet, dense stuff, so it didn't stay for very long. But we're supposed to get more snow tonight and tomorrow.  So what will that mean for my commute?


Well, if I do ride tomorrow, it will probably mean that in at least one of my schools, I won't be able to use the bike rack.  

Now I'm really wondering what the Ground Hog saw almost three weeks ago. Do we really have only three remaining weeks of winter?

With The Light Of This Day

Today the temperature went over 40F.  Yesterday it came close to that.  For the first time this year, we've had consecutive days on which the temperature rose above freezing. 

As a result, all of the ice and much of the snow that had accumulated since Christmas were gone.  So I rode to and from work for the first time this week.  It might be the last time, too, as the temperature is supposed to drop by twenty degrees tomorrow and we're supposed to get another snowstorm.

Last week, one of the office assistants asked how I rode to work.  I had to think fairly hard.  I actually have three or four distinct routes, and a couple of permutations of each one.  I don't think much about which way I'm going;  somehow I just know where to turn.  In a similar fashion, lots of passengers know, without seeing any signs or hearing any announcement, when the train is pulling into their station.  Sometimes the passengers don't even have to see the station, or anything around it.  

What guides them to disembark at the right stop?  Is it some sort of internal clock?  Or some other cue?

To tell you the truth, sometimes I'm just navigating by nothing more than light.  Somehow the glare of signals and the way in which the day's light fades--or grows brighter--is enough for me to know which way to go.  Sometimes.

Before The Next Storm: Last Bike Standing

The week before Christmas, the bike rack was as full as it was in September.  Throughout this winter intercession, there have been two bikes--until today.  Then there was one:

Yes, that's Marianela.  She doesn't seem to mind the cold so much as being perched on a snowbank that's turned to ice.  She doesn't seem forlorn or lonely.  But I think she wouldn't mind a warm blanket and some hot cocoa.  There's noting like imputing one's own wishes to a bicycle, right?


Actually, if she had her own volition, she would've wanted to get home after seeing this:

That's the "It's gonna snow any  second" sky.  Light snow began to fall about five minutes before I got home.  If it snows as steadily and heavily as the forecasters expect, I probably won't be riding into work tomorrow. 


 Mine was the last bike standing today

We Made It!

Lately my wireless connection has been misbehaving.  That's why I've posted only once this year before tonight.


At least I rode to work yesterday.  I'm teaching a winter intercession course at my "second" college.  They offered me a course before my main job offered me one, and I couldn't have taught both.  Plus, this course is an elective called Readings In Prose Fiction.  Basically, I can assign anything I want in it.  The other course I was offered was a required course in writing research papers.


The college at which I'm teaching is the one that had the full bike rack almost any time I rode in.  It's also the one where I saw a Pinarello parked in the rack.  That bike wasn't there yesterday.  In fact, I was a bit surprised to see any other bike at all.  Although the temperature reached the 40's (5-8 degrees Celsius), there were still piles of snow and ice around the edges of the parking lot, and at the bike rack.

Even if we weren't blessed with the remnants of last week's storm, there wouldn't be very many more bikes parked on campus.  The campus feels like a ghost town, at least in comparison with the regular semester.  To be fair, that's the case in most schools:  Fewer courses are offered, and fewer students attend.  As I understand, financial aid isn't available for students during the winter session.


Anyway, it's nice to be able to park my bike without having to maneuver others.  On the other, I miss the crowded bike rack:  It's nice to know that there are so many cyclists in the college.  Plus, the prof with whom I'd been riding home toward the end of the semester isn't teaching during the intersession. Sometimes I like riding home alone, probably because I interact with people on my job.  But I was enjoying the company of that other prof.  She and her husband had recently begun to take some longer rides on weekends, she told me.  


Somehow I imagine that she'd be riding in if she were teaching.  After all, she cycled through the coldest weather we had at the end of the semester--in a skirt.  So I know I wasn't the only crazy one in the college!  She has nicer legs, though. ;-)


Mine got me to work, which was about an hour and fifteen minutes from my apartment.  One other person at the college could say the same thing.