In Front Of Me

I love when those who read weather forecasts (and call themselves "meteorologists" when they parrot meteorological prognostications) talk about "gusty breezes".  They've been using that phrase a lot lately.  To me, it's still in the same category as "military intelligence", "dietetic candy", "nuclear safety" and "true love".

Anyway, I heard it again in today's weather report.  There was indeed something blowing when I went out for a ride today.  Was it a wind or a breeze?  I don't know.  What I can say about it, though, was that I pedaled against it out to Rockaway Beach.  Then it blew to my left side as I pedaled out to Point Lookout, and to my right on my way back to Rockaway Beach.  Then I rode it home.

Even when I pedaled into it, the wind (or breeze) wasn't onerous.  If anything, the bright sun--which has grown strong as we near the summer solistice--had more of an effect on my melanin-deficient (as an old African-American riding partner once jokingly described me) skin.

Strong sun came with a clear sky.  It was the kind of day in which everything seemed to stretch in front of me as I rode.  For one thing, I rode the entire length of the new Rockaway Boardwalk, which opened for the first time a couple of weeks ago.  Actually, disconnected stretches of it have been open for the past couple of years.  Nearly all of it was destroyed in the wake of Superstorm Sandy; there was basically no boardwalk for most of 2013.

Still, I have a hard time calling it a "boardwalk", though I do like its sort-of-Op Art look.  Its surface is better for cycling, except for one thing:  Sand collects in patches of it.  If you're riding a mountain bike or cruiser, it's not a problem.  But if you're on a skinny-tired (even 700X28!) road bike, they might cause you to skid or stop altogehter.

It was nice to see it stretch in front of me, though--and, more important, ride it all the way to Lawrence and the bridge to Atlantic Beach.

All along the South Shore of Nassau County, the sea and sky seemed to extend everywhere, in every direction, from the windows of bars and restaurants in Long Beach, the bungalows of Lido Beach--and, of course, from Point Lookout.

A good ride was had by all.

Flat-Free--For Today, Anyway

Today dawned clear; bright sun filled the morning and afternoon sky.  Clouds gathered around the time schools were letting kids out but there was no threat of rain. That much I could tell because although the air grew warmer, as it normally does during the day, the humidity didn’t increase. Or so it seemed.

In other words, today was a very, very nice day for a ride in these parts.  So of course I went.  Best of all, I pedaled into the wind as I pedaled away from home.  That meant, of course, that the wind blew me back.  I couldn’t have planned it any better than that.

I rode over parts of routes I’ve ridden many times before.  Although I’ve been thinking, lately, about new places and paths, I was happy to ride my old, familiar routines today.  In brief, I was simply happy to ride.

No, I haven’t had some near-death experience or other tragedy that could have left me unable to ride my bike—or live.  This day, and the ability to ride with nothing to distract me from its pleasures, was enough. 

All right, I’ll admit that there was one particular thing about this ride that made me even happier than I usually am when I’m on my bike.  Perhaps it will seem completely mundane, and under most circumstances it would be.  What is that piece of good fortune?  Here goes:  I didn’t get a flat.

From Trinity Outdoor Education

 

Now, I manage to do most of my rides—including my commutes—without puncturing my tires or tubes.  But on the three rides I took before this one, I had no such luck.  In fact, on one ride, I managed to get two flats.

You might be asking yourself, “She’s devoting a post to that?”  I can’t blame you if you are.  But the fact that I got this recent rash of flats is actually of some import—to me, anyway.  Why?

Well, those flats weren’t the result of worn-out or poor-quality tires or tubes.  I also haven’t been riding any tires that are lighter or otherwise more delicate than the ones I’ve used for the past several years. (The tires I rode today were Continental Gatorskins; I almost invariably ride tires from Continental, Michelin, Panaracer or Schwalbe.)  And, of course, the road conditions aren’t different from what I’ve been riding for a while.

All right, I should amend that last statement.  It does seem that there’s more debris on the streets, roads and paths than I normally see at this time of year.  I think it may have something to do with the fact that we had snow and ice so late in the season this year.  In most years, I encounter the most debris—and get the majority of whatever flats I get—in late winter and early spring.  I think that in most years, some shards of glass and other hazards are buried under the snow and ice and exposed once those winter accumulations melt or are brushed or shoveled away.  The first couple of heavy rains in April or May seem to wash much of the debris away; I rarely get flats late in the spring, or in the summer or fall unless I’m riding on a worn tire or have some other unusual circumstance.

In most years in this part of the world, the snow and ice are usually gone by March and the first heavy rains—the kinds that cause flooding on low ground or places with poor drainage—strike in April. However, we didn’t have such a torrent until the first day of this month. It usually takes two or three such storms, I think, to wash away much of what causes flats.

I’m hoping today’s ride is a good omen.  If it isn’t, well, I’ve had to do much worse things than replace or repair a tube during a ride!

Looking Out

Yesterday was the sort of warm late spring day that lets you know summer is near.   It wasn't as oppressive as last Monday, when I rode to Somerville, but the wind and sun necessitated hydration.

I'll spare you all the cliches about water being everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

It's called Point Lookout because, well, people look out.  So do birds:  There was one standing on the sandbar out just past the waves.  Do they ever think about whether it's a beautiful or terrible day? Do they think beauty is subjective?

All right:  I wasn't tired enough to think of silly questions like those when I got to PL. It was an invigorating, but not exhausting ride out there and back.  That has at least something to do with Arielle:

Even in this cell-phone photo, you can see why she likes going to Point Lookout:  something about the air and light there bring out her natural glow.