A Path To A Fall Ride

 Question of the day:  Which is rarer:  an annular solar eclipse or a weekend day without rain?

Well, the celestial event wouldn’t have been visible in my part of the US, even if meteorological ones would’ve permitted it.

So the eclipse keeps that title—for now. Moreover, we yesterday we had—wait for it—a beautiful Fall day that kept the “Sun” in “Sunday.”

(I’ve heard that someone pointed to the glowing orb in the sky, nudged the man next to her and asked, “What’s that, Mulder?”)

So, I did what any right-thinking cyclist would do.  Yes, I went for a ride;  specifically to Greenwich, Connecticut on La-Vande, my King of Mercia.

Not only was the weather delightful in the way only the day after a rainstorm can be; everything—from the early fall hues to roads that seemed hewn for riding—seemed to conspire for a great ride.

Even the path through Pelham Bay Park seemed to be made for an October ride.

A Once-In-A-Blue-Moon Ride

 Yesterday was a Florida day I  reverse:  It began with rain that fell “fast and furious”: I don’t think it lasted more than 15 minutes. A curtain of clouds remained, sealing this city into a cauldron that became even steamier when the sun peeked out before filling a clearing sky.*

I took a late afternoon ride in that late-summer soup.  So, not surprisingly, what I wore—and I—turned into wet rags.  I needed to do laundry anyway, so after supper, I lugged my dirty, smelly load to my usual laundromat. 

It was closed for “maintenance.”  I figured there had to be another nearby, so I walked down to 34th Avenue, where I encountered this:

Whatever others (and a government agency or two) say, I aver that I am in the middle of my life.  I claim that status because I don’t know when it will end. That means I might not see, again, what I saw last night. Or I might see its next predicted appearance—in 2037–or the one after it.

The Super Blue Moon is one of the rarest celestial phenomena.  You’ve heard the expression “once in a blue moon.” There’s a reason for it:  The “blue” moon is the second full moon in a calendar month.  Because the moon’s cycle is 29.5 days, it’s “blue” only every three years or so.

The name comes from the ok hue the orb sometimes reflects back to earthbound viewers.  But last night’s blue moon shone as bright and silvery-white as a streetlight because it’s a “Super” moon: a full moon that coincides with the perigee, or the moon’s closest approach to the earth. That happens a bit more frequently than a blue moon, but still only three or four times a year.

Thus, seeing a “blue” moon so big and bright won’t happen again until 2037. Whether or not I get to see it, I saw last night’s Super Blue Moon in the middle of my life, after a late-day ride.

*—To anyone who happens to be in Florida (or Georgia, the Carolinas or Virginia):  I hope you’re safe in the wake of Idalia.

Holding The Rain At Bay

 Yesterday I used one of my superpowers.

You see, mid-life transgenders who write bike blogs (yes, all whom you know!) have special secret powers that no one else has.

Those powers are so rare and so secret that you are learning about one of them only because you’re reading this blog.

Yesterday I managed to pedal under an opaque ceiling of clouds all the way to Point Lookout and most of the way back without encountering any rain.  I made sure of that.

Really, I did.  How?  I twitched my nose. See…there was a benefit to that fight I got into when I was thirteen years old after all! I confess, though, that I perfected my technique by watching all of those Bewitched episodes in my youth.

(Now I’m going to make a confession.  While growing up, I simply couldn’t stop watching Samantha, the series’ main character or Agent 99 on Get Smart.  When pressed, I told peers, parents and others that I had a crush on those characters. That was kinda sorta true.  Truth was, I wanted to be them when I grew up.)

Once again, I chose the Point Lookout ride by the wind, which blew out of the south and east. That meant the 60 or so kilometers to Point Lookout took about 45 minutes longer than the same distance back.

But I kept the rain at bay.  Really, I did.  OK, I had some help from this device:

Solitude And A Holiday

 The other day I rode to Point Lookout.  I began my ride under bright, sunny skies. As I pedaled through the Rockaways, however, clouds gathered, layer upon layer, shade over shade, blues and grays refracting the light of the sea and sky but posing no real threat of rain.

But, although it was Saturday, the scene along the Rockaway and Long Beach boardwalks bore more resemblance to mid-week—and early April rather than mid-June.  

The high temperature—around 19C or 66F—was indeed more like early Spring than early Summer.  What kept people from taking seaside strolls was, I believe, the wind, which at times gusted to 60KPH (about 38MPH). Some of the folks I saw were clad in fleece parkas!

I’ll admit that I like the relative solitude of rides like the one I took the other day:  I feel my being expanding across the expanse of sea and sky.

After I finish my cup of coffee, I will ride.  This afternoon will be a bit warmer, with less wind.  And it’s the official commemoration of Juneteenth. Government offices and many businesses are closed, so people have the day off.  I wonder whether I’ll see more people—and traffic—than I saw the other day.

Leaving Perfection Behind

I hold an advanced degree.  My professional life brings me into contact with some very intelligent people.  And according to the standardized tests, I am of above-average intelligence.

Now I will give you an opportunity to question the validity of standardized tests.

If you've been reading for the past week, you know that I've been in Florida and, for most of that time, have had nearly perfect cycling weather.

Well, I'm leaving it all behind me.  Yes, I'm going back to New York in January.  Flying into JFK, no less.

A Fallen Woman (On Her Bike)

Had a bit of a mishap yesterday.  On my way to work, a driver pulled out of a parking lot and into the street, about twenty feet in front of me.  I made a panic stop. Fortunately, the driver and I didn't collide.  However, I took a tumble.  


Except for a bent Jitensha handlebar, the bike incurred no damage.  However, my left knee hit the pavement.  So, it's swollen and bruised, and I feel pain when I bend it.  I feel it when I bend to sit down, but not once I sit down. However, it's painful to cross my legs.


I've been to the doctor.  He said, "It feels worse than it actually is."  That's good to know.  A few days of staying off it as much as possible should heal it, he says.  


So, if we get the snow, sleet, hail, slush and everything else the meteorolgists have forecast for this weekend, I won't mind, really.  I'll read, write, play with Max and do some cooking.  Maybe I'll make some soup: I haven't done that yet this "winter."


Oh well.  If I get some miles in before the season starts, at least I can be in something like reasonable shape.  Meantime, I'll keep on posting!