Entering A Gate, But Not Hell

These days, on my way to work, I ride by the Gates of Hell.

Actually, it's better known as the Hell Gate Bridge.  If you've taken the train to or from Boston from New York, you traversed this span.  

The Bridge is named for the stretch of the East River that runs underneath it.  You wouldn't know it from seeing the boat in the photo, but this length of the East River (which isn't actually a river, but rather an inlet of the ocean) has strong undercurrents.  Inexperienced or careless (or, in at least a few cases, drunk) pilots wrecked their vessels as a result of them.

Strange, isn't it, that a spot with such a turbulent, tragic history can calm me down--even though it's still called Hell Gate!--on my way to my job?

I guess it's not so surprising when you see what set the Gate ablaze this morning.

And, when I arrive at work, I pass through gates to the lot where I park my bike.  A security guard nods when I roll my bike up to the rack.  He is not a keeper of the Gates of Hell.

On Dawn And Mother-Daughter Realationships

Another dawn ride in the Sunshine State.  Really, given the heat and humidity, it really is the best time to pedal.  Plus, my parents live just far enough from the ocean that I can start just before sunrise and, within a few minutes, be treated to scenes like this:

That, from a place called Hammock.  And this from, appropriately, Painter's Hill:

At that time of morning, one finds more surfers or fishers than swimmers.  (Leave it to me to be, as always, a minority--both as a swimmer and cyclist!)  When you're up before most other people and throw yourself at a great expanse that seems like infinity, it's hard not to wonder about the meaning of it all:

As it turns out, the woman in the second photo was watching her daughter:

As my mother is not, and never has been, a cyclist, surfer, swimmer or fisher, we have a different mother-daughter relationship.  It was still more than welcome at the end of today's ride, in which I managed to beat the midday heat and afternoon rain.