Air Conditioning

After riding, however briefly, on a hot day, it's refreshing or jarring or both to go into an air-conditioned space.

It's really odd when that air-conditioned space is a bicycle shop.  You see those shiny, new bicycles and they betray nary a hint of the sweaty cyclists who might be astride them one day.  Even the mustard-yellow Salsa and the cruiser in the color of moss look nearly as fluorescent as the store's lighting in the chilled air.

At least, when I ride to work, I am ready for the chill I will feel upon entering the building.  I teach in one of those places where they seem to turn on the air conditioning in June and leave it on, full-blast, until September.  Mark Twain once joked that the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.  A summer class in the college where I teach might've changed his mind.

Yesterday, I had both of the experiences I've just described.  I took midday ride on Tosca, my fixie, down to Battery Park.  On the way back, I stopped at Bicycle Habitat to pick up a wheel Hal built for me. This wheel has a Phil Wood front track hub, a black Mavic Open Pro rim and DT spokes. It's on the front of Tosca, which previously had a road front wheel and has a rear wheel with the same rim and spokes and a Phil Wood "flip-flop" hub with a fixed gear on one side and a freewheel (which I have yet to use) on the other side.

Then, I rode the LeTour to my class.   In between, I changed clothes:  I was wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt for my early ride.  When I rode to class,  I wore knee-length skirt and sleeveless top that's part of a twinset . When I got to the college, I put on the cardigan from the twinset.  I find that when I feel cold, I tend to feel it more around my shoulders and chest.  I felt comfortable and rather liked the little bit of chill I felt around my legs:  It's the next best thing to a breeze by the ocean.

Back when I was Professor Nick, I didn't think as much about how I was dressed when I taught.  When I taught evening classes during the summer, as I'm teaching now, I sometimes came to class in the shorts and T-shirt I wore when I rode in.  No one seemed to mind, and since neither my department chair nor any of the administrators were there in the evening, I don't think any of them knew.  If anyone complained, I probably would have heard about it.

I never rode to class in lycra.

Although there are no official dress codes at the college, I don't think I could get away with teaching in shorts and a T-shirt, much less lycra, now.  Then again, I wouldn't do it: As Professor Justine (or simply Justine),  I am more conscious of how I dress and otherwise present myself.  Some of that may simply have to do with getting older and perhaps, in some way, more conservative.  Some of the more radical feminists and queer theorists might say that I'm taking on society's feminine gender role, or some such thing. 

But I digress.  Bicycling and air conditioning seem like the opposite poles of a summer's day.  Or are they?

Hmm....If I hook up my helmet with an air conditioner, does that violate the manufacturer's warranty?  Will it be safe if I ever decide to try to break some motor-paced speed record?

Cycling On Le Quatorzieme: Revolutionary?

Today is, of course, le jour de Bastille.   Three times in my life, I've been in France on this date: Twice I was cycling in the countryside; the other time I was just barely keeping myself out of trouble in Paris. 


Possibly the most interesting of those quatorziemes was the one I spent in a town called Foix.  I ridden from Toulouse through the Pyrenees into Spain and had just come back into France when I came to Foix.  If you are in that part of the world, I definitely recommend going there.  It's not a big city at all, but it has played significant roles in the history of France and the region.  I won't get into it here, for much more than a blog post would be needed to do it justice.  But it's also worth going simply for the spectacular views. friendly people and the castle:

According to a local song, El castels es tant fortz qu’el mezis se defent: The castle is so strong it can defend itself.   Indeed, since it was built around the year 1000 C.E.,  it has never been captured.  Within its walls resided the counts of Foix, who were considered l'ame  of the Occitan resistance against the Albigensians in the 13th Century.


Most people think that some particularly clever Marine came up with the slogan Kill 'em all.  Let God sort 'em out. Actually, it was Arnaud Amaury, the Abbot of Citeaux and the Papal Legate to the Crusaders, who said Neca eos omnes. Deus suos agnoscet ("Kill them all; God will know His own.") when Simon de Montfort, the Commander of the Crusade, pointed out that not everyone in Beziers, a town he was ordered to sack and burn, was a heretic.

No matter how many people they killed, they couldn't touch the Foix castle. I have no idea of what the Bastille was like. But I imagine they would have had a much, much more difficult time storming the Foix castle than they did with the Bastille. How would history be different if the Foix castle had been built in Paris or the Bastille in Foix?

Anyway...When I showed up at the castle on my bike, people--all of them strangers--applauded. Do people applaud during revolutions?

For A Light, The End Is Style

Today, as each drop of rain pelted the streets, sidewalk and window, you could practically feel the steam rising. I didn't ride to work, or at all.  That meant, of course, that I took mass transit.  


It amazes me, even after all of these years of living in New York and having used the subways and buses, to see just how grimy the stations and other facilities can be.  Having had the opportunity to ride to work again only makes some of the stations seem even more squalid than they were before.  It only makes me want to ride to work all the more.


As you've seen in previous postings, I've added rear baskets to the Le Tour.  Soon I'm going to install a small (just enough for my pocketbook) front basket.  I've also attached lights to the bike:  a Planet Bike "Blinky" on the rear and two headlights on the front.  One is also from Planet Bike:  an LED light that can be used as a regular light or as a stobe.


But I also added something almost nostalgic and whimsical:

Cyclists of my generation will recognize it:  the Schwinn-approved "bloc" generator, which was made by Soubitez of France.  I had one on my Schwinn Continental when I was fourteen years old.  


One thing I liked about it was that using it with a battery-operated tail light eliminated the need for long wires to connect the generator with the light.  Plus, for such a small lamp, the light output was good, at least by the standards of that time.


I tried it the other night.  It's pretty good:  It will help me to see road obstructions and make me more visible to oncoming motorists.  But there still is a lot of drag, and the conventional tungsten bulb will never be as bright as a halogen, much less an LED, light.   Still, I've always liked its style.  And that's what really counts. Right?