Today I was asked to go to a function where I really didn't have to be. I never exactly said "no," but I didn't commit to it, either. So, if anyone notices I wasn't there (There's a good chance nobody will!), I can say that "something came up."
Which it did. That "something", of course, is a ride. When I left my apartment just after noon with Arielle, scarcely a cloud besmudged the blue, sunny sky. A strong breeze bent tree limbs and flickered leaves. But the weather was just warm enough that the breeze invigorated me.
Given that it was such a lovely day, I figured I could ride to Point Lookout and be home around the time of the end-of-day traffic filled the roads. It was a good plan, but not necessarily for the reasons I planned.
We all know that when you pedal into a breeze, it turns into a wind. And when you pedal into a wind, it turns into a gale. Someone told me that once. That person, once again, was right. But I didn't care: I just wanted to ride.
Then, as I pushed through Howard Beach and along the roads and bridges to the Rockaways, clouds gathered. By the time I got to the Rockaway Beach boardwalk, the skies were overcast. Even though they grew grayer and more opaque, they never really darkened. So, I knew there was no real threat of rain.
But by the time I got to Point Lookout, I felt I was looking at what Andrew Wyeth might have painted had he lived in a coastal town:
Still, the ride was more than pleasant and, surprisingly, didn't take much longer than it normally did. I also wasn't tired.
The upside to pedaling in the wind, of course, is that when you turn around, it's at your back. Arielle really lived up to her name: I felt like I was floating over the roads through Lido Beach, Long Beach and Atlantic Beach, and over the bridge to Far Rockaway. Even when riding the boardwalk, I felt like I was on a magic carpet powered by Eddie Mercx, Jeanne Longo and a Russian sprinter or two.
Things probably never would have gone so smoothly had I attended that function I really didn't have to attend!
Which it did. That "something", of course, is a ride. When I left my apartment just after noon with Arielle, scarcely a cloud besmudged the blue, sunny sky. A strong breeze bent tree limbs and flickered leaves. But the weather was just warm enough that the breeze invigorated me.
Given that it was such a lovely day, I figured I could ride to Point Lookout and be home around the time of the end-of-day traffic filled the roads. It was a good plan, but not necessarily for the reasons I planned.
We all know that when you pedal into a breeze, it turns into a wind. And when you pedal into a wind, it turns into a gale. Someone told me that once. That person, once again, was right. But I didn't care: I just wanted to ride.
Then, as I pushed through Howard Beach and along the roads and bridges to the Rockaways, clouds gathered. By the time I got to the Rockaway Beach boardwalk, the skies were overcast. Even though they grew grayer and more opaque, they never really darkened. So, I knew there was no real threat of rain.
But by the time I got to Point Lookout, I felt I was looking at what Andrew Wyeth might have painted had he lived in a coastal town:
Still, the ride was more than pleasant and, surprisingly, didn't take much longer than it normally did. I also wasn't tired.
The upside to pedaling in the wind, of course, is that when you turn around, it's at your back. Arielle really lived up to her name: I felt like I was floating over the roads through Lido Beach, Long Beach and Atlantic Beach, and over the bridge to Far Rockaway. Even when riding the boardwalk, I felt like I was on a magic carpet powered by Eddie Mercx, Jeanne Longo and a Russian sprinter or two.
Things probably never would have gone so smoothly had I attended that function I really didn't have to attend!
