First Autumn Ride

Every year, there's a moment when I realize I'm on a fall ride.  It usually has nothing to do with the calendar, for--as we know--the seasons neither begin nor end on the "official" date. The Autumnal Equinox comes on the 21st of September, or some date one or two days on either side of it, but the weather may be no different from that of August--or December.  Similarly, the arrival of the seasons has much to do where you are, geographically.  Autumn, or any other season, is not going to arrive or manifest itself on the eastern plains of Montana on the same day, or in the same way, as along the coast of Florida.


Although we've had some cooler weather during the last couple of days, today felt like autumn for the first time.  It had to do with what I saw while riding today:

Picasso had his "blue period;" today I took my Yellow Shot.  Although our trees are nowhere near peak,  and they're not in Vermont, they are lovely.   


I took the shot in Ozone Park, on a street called Aroine Road.  That road dead-ends into a place called Rocket Park.  Perhaps it has something to do with the how quickly the seasons go by.  (That's what you have to look forward to as you get older!)

Replacing Stolen Booty

If you saw yesterday's post, you noticed that I was on my Le Tour III.  And, a couple of weeks back, I mentioned that the seatpost and seat had been stolen.  The guys at Habitat gave me a seatpost and clamp that had been in one of their used-parts boxes; I installed it with the Terry Butterfly saddle I had on my Miss Mercian.  Someone else is getting the Butterfly; I am going to try a new saddle I saw on sale.

It's made by a company called Gyes.  I think they make the Velo Orange and a few other "own name" saddles.  The one I'm installing on the Le Tour is the Parkside model, which is very similar to the Brooks B67--which, of course, is a B17 with springs.


That means I'll again have all-leather saddles on all of my bikes.  A B17 is perched on Helene, and both Arielle and Tosca sport the narrow versions of the B17.


I'll admit that I'm starting with a certain prejudice:  The Gyes is on my mass-produced, beat-up LeTour (which I've decided to name Marianela), and the Brooks saddles are on my handbuilt Mercians. Although the Gyes has a couple of features that Brooks doesn't (e.g., the flaps of the saddle skirt riveted together underneath the main part of the saddle), I still expect it to be of lower quality and lesser workmanship and not to last as long.  That's another reason I put it on the Le Tour:  If someone takes this saddle, I don't think I'll be as upset as I'd be if someone took one of my Brooks.  


This should be interesting.  I haven't ridden the seat yet, but I expect it to at least by early in the coming week.  

Another Song At Sunset

Every year, there are two or three days that I would love to continue for about eight or ten weeks.  In other words, I'd like to turn days like those into seasons.  Today was one of those days.  


The day started rather brisk, but still nice for cycling.  So, by the time I got to my regular job, I was in a good, almost giddy, mood.  Along the way, I passed and was passed by all different kinds of cyclists, and they were all friendly.  Even the drivers seemed patient.  The same thing happened as I cycled from my main to my part-time job.

And, at sunset, everything just seemed positively radiant.  I couldn't help but to think of these lines from Whitman's Song At Sunset:

Splendor of ended day, floating and filling me! 
Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past! 
Inflating my throat—you, divine average! 
You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.