Yesterday was balmy compared to most of the weather we've had in NYC for the past few weeks. In fact, the afternoon high temperature of 11C (52F) was about the same as that of a couple of days last week in Florida.
The funny thing is that it actually seemed chillier in Florida. Perhaps my body had acclimated itself to warmer weather--or to the expectations of people who live there. To them, it was cold.
For me, it was a day filled with more of that diffuse but austere winter light Bill and I enjoyed the other day.
So where did I ride? Here is a clue:
I can't see defoliated trees in the Nutmeg State without thinking about the "Connecticut quarter". Of course, the ride was better than that coin: That 25-cent piece, like most money, is worth less and less every year, while the joy of a ride does not depreciate for me.
Not even after seeing the Greenwich Veterans' Memorial against such a stark background.
Part of the joy was, of course, that I was doing a ride I don't normally do at this time of year. In spite of the mild weather, not many people, cyclists or otherwise, were out. The good thing about that was that I saw little traffic, even at the highway entrances by the state line or in New Rochelle or the Bronx.
After 140 kilometers of riding and a good dinner, I was happy, to say the least! So was Arielle, my Mercian Audax.
The funny thing is that it actually seemed chillier in Florida. Perhaps my body had acclimated itself to warmer weather--or to the expectations of people who live there. To them, it was cold.
For me, it was a day filled with more of that diffuse but austere winter light Bill and I enjoyed the other day.
So where did I ride? Here is a clue:
I can't see defoliated trees in the Nutmeg State without thinking about the "Connecticut quarter". Of course, the ride was better than that coin: That 25-cent piece, like most money, is worth less and less every year, while the joy of a ride does not depreciate for me.
Not even after seeing the Greenwich Veterans' Memorial against such a stark background.
Part of the joy was, of course, that I was doing a ride I don't normally do at this time of year. In spite of the mild weather, not many people, cyclists or otherwise, were out. The good thing about that was that I saw little traffic, even at the highway entrances by the state line or in New Rochelle or the Bronx.
After 140 kilometers of riding and a good dinner, I was happy, to say the least! So was Arielle, my Mercian Audax.