So Winter Starts...Now?

The Winter Solistice will come at 11:48 pm--just twelve minutes before midnight--in this part of the world.   As I'm not a Druid, I'm not going to engage in some ritual or another unless I'm at Stonehenge--which doesn't seem likely.  It's hard to think of the coming of winter when the early-morning low temperature was higher than the typical high temperature for this day, and is still climbing well after sunset.

What's even stranger is that weather forecasters say the weather will continue to get warmer all the way until Christmas Eve, when the high temperature is projected to pass the old record (17C, or 63F) for the date by about 5C, or 8F.  Christmas Day is predicted to be almost as warm.

That leads me to wonder whether we'll have an exceptionally mild winter--or whether we'll have this spell of warm weather before temperatures plunge and we have a major snowstorm some time after New Year's Day.

In other words, will my winter rides look like this:

or this?:

What's Winter To You?

Today we got a respite from the coldest weather we've had in about three years.  Still, by the standards of some parts of the world, 3F (-16C), is fairly balmy.  Transplants from the bitter steppes of the Upper Midwest and expats from places like Novosibrisk (Doesn't it just sound bone-chilling?) laugh when they see the fuss New Yorkers make about such temperatures and a few inches of snow.

I find it pretty funny when people ask me whether I "still ride" in the cold.  They never ask the same of people who go out for walks or go outdoors for just about any other activity besides swimming.  Really, the cold doesn't bother me much, though I admit that when it conspires with wind and wetness, I might decide to stay home and cook up a pot of tomato sauce--of which I'll freeze most.

The thing that made today a relatively unpleasant day to ride (I did only a few miles.) was the intermittent rain and the slush that had become of the snow that fell the other night.  I know, I have two bikes with fenders, those bikes and I can stay relatively clean and dry.  But such conditions are still not a whole lot of fun for riding.

I wonder whether people who live in really cold climates feel the same way:  undeterred by cold itself, but daunted by some of the things that accompany it. When it's cold, you can just add more layers of clothing.  Your body warms up almost as soon as you start pedaling. (At least, mine does.)  But when there's ice, slush and other stuff, it's--for me, anyway--a bit more challenging.

From Fader

 

 

The Original Powder Coat

Some love snow. Others hate it.  Me, I like a good snow coating every now and again.  Of course, I liked the white stuff even better when I was a regular off-road rider and owned a mountain bike.

But I like the snow best of all when it's a light dusting. Of course, it doesn't make for the best of riding conditions, especially on city streets:  It and rain or light drizzle make for more slippery streets than any other kind of weather.  Still, I think much in this city--and in nature--is at its prettiest when they're dusted with light snowflakes.  They almost seem like confections.

Perhaps it's not quite as visible in these photos as it was to me when I rode past Isham Park, at the very northern end of Manhattan.  I had only my cell phone to capture those images.  Oh, well.

And, like any other kind of confection, that light dusting of snow didn't last long.


 

 

Our Winter Is Their Sunrise

As I've mentioned in my previous two posts, we in New York are having the coldest weather we've had in two years.  Everybody's talking about it:  I think we were spoiled by such a mild season last year.

Still, we're getting off pretty easy compared to people in other parts of the world.  Either of the past two days would have been utterly balmy in, say, Duluth, Minnesota.  On an average January day, the high temperature there is 18F(-8C)--about what it was yesterday.  Today it was about five degrees (F) warmer.  And our night temperatures have been nowhere near as cold as the  -1F (-18C) folks in Duluth experience on a typical January night.

Aside from the mild winter we had last year, the cold is affecting people in the Big Apple for another reason:  wind.  The wind has, at times, gusted to nearly 30MPH (50KPH), and has steadily blown at 10-12MPH (16-21KPH).  That, of course, gives the cold a "bite" it wouldn't otherwise have.

However, there is one area in which, barring dramatic climate changes, New York winters will never compare with those in Duluth:  snow.  We should be thankful for small things:  The cold and wind here have been dry, and the skies almost preternaturally clear.  (Somehow, skies seem--to me, anyway-- clearer when it's cold.)  The city by Lake Superior, in contrast, is almost always covered with snow at this time of year, mainly because when snow falls, it tends to stay for longer than it does here in the New York islands.

So, I have to give major "props" to any year-round bike commuter in Duluth--like Doug, the author of MnBicycleCommuter.  When the roads are covered with snow, he rides a Surly Pugsley with the widest tires he can fit. 

Now, if I had to ride in the kind of cold Doug regularly experiences, I wouldn't mind a view like that.  I've pedalled into the sunrise:  It put me in a good mood for work.

Doug definitely deserves such views. So does anyone else who rides in those conditions!

Les Alpes Maritimes Sur Flushing Bay

Last night the temperature dropped below 10F for the first time in two years.  When I left my place, it was 12F, and the wind-chill was below zero.

So I did took the most sensible route for today's commute:  the one that takes me along the water.

For a moment, I actually envisioned myself among the snow-capped peaks of the Alps.  I rode up mountains (Avoriaz, Galibier and Colle d'Agnello/Col d'Agnell) whose roads were banked by snow--and whose peaks were covered them--when the weather was warm enough to ride comfortably in shorts and a cycling jersey. 

Today's weather, of course, was nothing like that.  However, I didn't have to do any climbing.  Along the Cote d'Azur and in Liguria, the mountains tumble all the way to the sea.  People who've spent their entire lives in this part of the world probably cannot imagine such a coastline.

This is probably the closest they'll come to seeing anything like it:

 

Just Vera, The Red Allez And An Old Mountain Bike

Today we had the coldest weather we've had in two years.  Last night it got down to 15F; the weather forecasters say that it may drop to 10F or below tonight.

One way you know we're having a real winter is to look at the bike racks where I work:

The only bikes parked there are Vera, the red Allez that's been there seemingly every day and an old Fuji mountain bike.

Are they ridden by hardy souls or addled minds? Now there's a question for a campus debate!

10 January 2013

When Is It Too Cold To Ride?

Isn't it too cold for you to ride?

How many times have you heard that?  It seems that even in the mildest of winters--like the one we had last year--someone asks that question whenever I'm on my bike, or look as if I've been on it.

What I find interesting is that some of the cities with the largest contingents of year-round cyclists--and the best infrastructures for cycling--experience more intense cold and get much more snow than New York ever has. Such a city is Montreal, where a cyclist took a video of the winter commute I posted last week. 

Other such cities include Oulu, Finland and Umea (Sorry, I couldn't get the little circle over the "a" !) in Sweden, where the weather doesn't seem to deter these cyclists:

From Copenhagenize

Don't you just love the light in that photo?  '

We haven't had any snow in these parts, so I have to content myself with views like these when I start my commute home:

05 January 2013

The End Of A Winter Day

I didn't get to do a real ride today--just a spin to Astoria Park and a yogurt run.  However, I got home in time to witness a near-perfect ending to a winter day:

At least, it's about as close to perfect any day's end can be in these parts.  As the sun descended, a mist of wispy cirrus clouds rose from the horizon to a deep translucent blue sky:  a dream ahead, and a vision above, this day's ride.

03 January 2013

Palais d'Hiver

This photo from Let's Go Ride A Bike made me think of something I wrote some years ago:

  Palais d'Hiver 

Wind:

    dry whispers

      in a house 

    where I

      no longer

    live. 

Seasonal Wisdom, Repeated

From Copenhagenize

Yesterday's commute may have been the coldest I've had in two years.  Or maybe it wasn't:  Last year's winter-that-wasn't may well have spoiled me so that a normal winter day seems absolutely frigid.

Anyway, when I got to work, I exchanged wishes for a happy new year with the office manager and secretary.  "You didn't ride your bike today?," they wondered in unison.

I nodded and grinned.  Then, the office manager, who is about ten years older, expressed her incomprehension that I wasn't wearing a long, heavy coat.  I explained that, underneath my silk jacket, I was wearing two other layers.  

In more than three decades of riding to work and/or school, I have seen increasing numbers of people do the same, and even ride for recreation or sport.  However, it seems that just as many people now as then share my coworkers' incredulity over the way we dress.

Sometimes I think that to be a cyclist, you have to be something of an educator as well.  That may not change any time soon and, if nothing else, I have something like the requisite skill set.

But I digress.  I have found that, even when I'm not cycling or engaging in other vigorous activity, dressing in layers makes more sense than wearing a heavy top coat although I occasionally sport the latter for purposes of fashion.  (Plus, it is easier to slip a wool overcoat than a cycling or ski jacket over a suit or dress!)  Even if I'm just taking a leisurely stroll or doing nothing more strenuous than climbing the stairs to a gallery, I prefer the freedom of movement--and the ability to add or remove articles of clothing as the temperature changes--afforded by layers of clothing.

I suspect that I will continue to have exchanges like the one I had yesterday for as long as I'm cycling in cold weather.  There are certainly more difficult and unpleasant tasks!

31 December 2012

What The End Of This Year Means For Me

From Leica 1956.

In recent years, it's seemed that the ending of the year has more or less coincided with the beginning of winter.  There have been exceptions, of course, such as the winter-that-barely-was a year ago.  But in my recent memory, in this part of the world, the death of a year, if you will, has mirrored the death of so much else.

At least cycling has been a constant in most years.  One of the exceptions came three years ago, when I was recuperating from surgery.  But, in most winters, whatever cycling I'm able to do makes the weeks and months of barren, wizened trees and old people in old, sometimes frayed coats that have survived other seasons seem like people and things encountered on a journey rather than signals of death.

And although I did no Grand Tours or any other monumental rides, I am happy and thankful for the cycling I have done.  For reasons I haven't discussed, and won't discuss, on this blog (After all, they''re not reasons why you come to this blog!), the past year has been difficult for me.  Some might say that I was coming down, finally, from the euphoria I experienced after making a change I'd wanted for as long as I can remember.  Maybe they're right.  But cycling has not merely masked the pain or discontent I've felt; it has always helped me to see that conditions such as those are (or, at least, need) not be permanent.

So has keeping this blog.  That makes sense when you realize that writing has been, along with cycling, one of the enduring passions of my life.  The fact that I continue to do both shows me the necessity of living in the moment as well as the foolishness of living for it, or of believing that every moment will be an extension of the present, or even the past.  So, while I know that I have been in better physical condition--and that I have written things that some people would say are better than anything I've written on this blog, or during the past year, as long as I keep on pedaling and writing, I know that there can be change.  I take that back: There will always be change. What riding and writing show me is that One kind of change or another (save, perhaps, for getting older) is not inevitable; while I may not ever regain the form I had in my youth, I can always improve my conditioning and, perhaps, do different kinds of riding from what I did in those days.  I may not conquer mountains again because I may not need to.  But there will always be a journey, and all I can do is to keep on pedaling and writing, and do whatever goes along with them.

N.B.:  Check out Leica 1956, where I found the photo I've included in this post.